


A Curse Within Hamilton

by johnfightmelaurens



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: College AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Modern Day, Outing, Relationship Issues, Trans Character, Trans John Laurens, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, dead naming, tfw stubbornness turns into dickishness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:59:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnfightmelaurens/pseuds/johnfightmelaurens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander just doesn't know when to <i>stop talking</i>.<br/>John always thought he could trust him, but that's not enough.<br/>Getting outed hurts more than John could ever imagine, but what's worse is that he no longer has Alexander by his side.<br/>----<br/>modern college au where john laurens is a trans man and hamilton is his boyfriend who fucks everything up</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night at the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written any sort of fanfiction so sorry if I'm out of practice! Not all the tags will apply to all the chapters and I will be adding more tags as I write and work towards an end goal. This fic was inspired by a prompt on [the Hamilton Prompts tumblr](http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com), more specifically [this one right here](http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/135513993402/modern-au-lams-fic-prompt-john-laurens-is-a-trans), but the prompt won't come up until later chapters.

Over the course of their friendship, there had been three major events that both Laurens and Hamilton would claim were important and life changing. 

The first one happened shortly after they met and formed their study group of four: Laurens, Lafayette, Hamilton, and Mulligan. They had all attended a party and gotten thoroughly drunk when Thomas Jefferson showed up and ruined it. Okay, he hadn’t ruined the party, but the argument and fight that had followed had brought them all closer together.

The second one had been when, then Margaret Laurens, had come out as trans. While the entirety of their group had been more than accepting of, now, John, Alexander had taken it upon himself to start a campus wide campaign to ensure the safety of his friend. He wrote articles for the college paper about discrimination and trans rights, advocated for preferred name changes on rosters and school IDs, and nearly punched a handful of people who refused to respect his best friend.

The third one was when the two men moved in together at the start of their second year of law school. They were already crashing repeatedly at each other’s places and what not so it made it easier to study together and for Laurens to keep an eye on Hamilton; the man had a tendency to work straight through meals and forgo sleep after all.

Of course those three events weren’t the only defining events in their friendship, just the most important and special to them. There had been a number of articles that Alexander had written for the paper that had gotten him in hot water a number of times that they all looked back on appreciatively, namely the one where Alexander accidentally came out to the entirety of Columbia as bi because Aaron Burr had ruffled his feathers in just the right way. Many a night out drinking where their tom foolery was felt the next day due to inappropriate texts sent, received, and screenshotted. More than once Alexander had spent the night at Butler library, passing out over his laptop or textbooks. There was a rumor on campus that he had spent at least one night in every one of the 24 hour study rooms, and there were quite a few.

Tonight the study group turned close friends were at the bar they frequented. It wasn’t the closest one to campus or to where any of them lived, but less of the college crowd ended up there which meant they were less likely to run into Burr or god forbid Jefferson (mostly due to Hamilton’s rivalry with both parties more than actual distaste). They were a few rounds in by this point which left the four men happily drunk and enjoying themselves in the booth they were seated at. Laurens was focused intently on his beer, leaning over it so he could scrutinize it thoroughly. Luckily his hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail so it wasn’t falling into his drink.

“Laurens, dear dear dear dear Laurens,” Alexander said after a moment of watching his best friend. “Now, not to sound insensitive or overstep my boundaries as your friend and also I just am curious but I don’t want to cause you harm I just-”

“Hamilton,” Hercules said with a huff and pointed at him, beer in hand. “You need to shut up for a goddamn second because you’re doing that rambling thing you do, except you’re drunk so what the fuck are you saying and also we’re drunk so we like extra don’t follow. Ok? Ok. John, tell Hamilton something so he fucking stops this shit and asks you whatever the fuck it is he wants.”

Lafayette laughed and John theatrically rolled his eyes, which took some effort due to his drunkenness, before looking to Alexander. “Unless you’re asking something about surgery or my voice, go ahead,” he said, working on his third pint of Sam Adams.

“Why do you keep your hair long?” Alexander blurted out and instantly regretted it, his face going red with embarrassment while Lafayette’s laughter continued to ring out in the bar. Hercules, who must have been the soberest at the table at this point, looked to John to make sure the question didn’t upset him because if he didn’t check up on him at this point, none of them would.

John blinked a couple of times, setting his glass down as he tried to comprehend the question. It was as though he’d never thought of cutting his hair before Alexander mentioned it. He furrowed his brow, thinking for a second before reaching his ah-ha moment. 

“Because I ain’t comin’ out to my dad and if I see ‘im, and I got short hair, I’m gonna be in a real shit place, won’t I? And you, you got long hair, mister. Shit half the guys we know’ve got long hair. You just asking because I’m trans, right? Plus, I like it long, it looks good, you telling me I don’ look good?” he said, punctuating the end of his thought with a playful punch to Alexander’s shoulder.

“I’m not saying that at all, alright?” Hamilton said, putting his hands up in surrender. Hercules let out a huff of relief that John didn’t have a drunken panic attack (it had happened before due to transphobic dicks at the bar and he didn’t want a repeat occurrence) before downing the end of his drink.

As Hamilton was about to say something that would probably turn his face an even darker shade of red, Lafayette chimed in so Alexander wouldn’t have to do all the work by himself. “Oh, mon ami, notre ami monsieur Hamilton would never say you're anything but le plus bel homme à Columbia. He’d probably go even further and say you’re the most handsome man he knows,” he said with yet another laugh and Hercules joined in this time. Both Laurens’ and Hamilton’s faces went even redder on the other side of the table. “That is simply Alexander’s amour speaking of course.”

Alexander quickly moved to punch at Lafayette, forgetting the table between them and only managed to knock over the frenchman’s, thankfully empty, glass. Lafayette was hit by another spell of his drunken giggles with Hercules following suit once more. This time it was infectious enough to have the rather embarrassed Laurens joining in, leaving Hamilton dumbfounded as he realized he was not being mocked. He didn’t have a chance to complain or even comment on it, before Mulligan was changing the subject.

Their night of drinking came to an end long before the four a.m cut off and the four men were soon stumbling home. Alexander did him and John a favor by calling a taxi, while Lafayette and Mulligan decided they were going to walk to their place while singing show tunes at the top of their lungs. Luckily they lived closer to the bar than Hamilton and Laurens did, so their walk home wouldn’t be as dangerous.

The cab ride home had John leaning heavily on Alexander’s shoulder with a bit of a huff, his breathing a little shallow. He made the mistake time and time again of wearing his binder out drinking with his buddies and now he was paying for it. They didn’t speak much as the streetlights passed by, occasionally illuminating the interior of the cab. Alexander was reminded of a handful of movies he had seen that showed the love interest in the same position that Laurens was in beside him, though he couldn’t come up with any names. Perhaps they didn’t exist and he was simply remembering the countless cab rides the two of them had shared that had felt just like this.

When the cab pulled up in front of their apartment building, Alexander fumbled with his wallet so he could pay while John moved to climb out of the car, easily winded after the long day and especially the drinks. He had to wait for Alexander to come along and help him to his feet, which was embarrassing to say the least but the remnants of the several pints of beer he’d drank that night let him forget about dignity for a moment as they headed inside to their apartment, quietly laughing to themselves.

John unlocked the apartment after fumbling with his keys for a good minute. Stepping inside, he let out a sigh of relief and he was quick to collapse onto the couch not too far from the door. Alexander, who always seemed to sober up before everyone else did, made sure to lock the door behind them and kicked his shoes off, not caring where they went. 

“I’m gonna uh need some help,” John mumbled and moved to get to his feet. It was hard and he was starting to feel lightheaded. Taking off the constructing piece of clothing around his chest was his only priority for the time being. “I’m a moron and you know it so instead of makin’ comments ‘bout how I do this every time, I jus’ wanna take it off, aight?”

Alexander laughed a bit and moved to walk his friend to his bedroom. “Fine, I’ll just lecture you tomorrow when we both have hangovers because we’re both morons,” he said, easing John towards the bed. He clumsily went through his best friend’s dresser to pull out a t-shirt and tossed it his way. This wasn’t the first time that Alexander had needed to help John out of his binder and it was in no way going to be the last, he knew this and so did John. 

John managed to get his shirt off on his own while waiting for Alexander to come his way and he refused to look him in the eye when he came towards him. It was humiliating, John thought, to be so drunk that taking off such a vital piece of clothing would require help. 

Tucking his fingers beneath the hem of the binder, Alexander just waited for John to lift his arms before pulling the tight shirt off his friend. He kept his eyes averted, folding the article of clothing now in his hands while John pulled on the new shirt. He didn’t want to betray his trust and looking at him while he was indecent while drunk when he didn’t feel comfortable in his own body seemed like the perfect way to do that. Alexander set the binder down on top of John’s dresser, waiting for John to give him the okay.

“A’ight,” Laurens said after a long moment; his breathing was starting to sound normal again. “I’m decent, but I wanna talk before I pass the fuck out and you go and do the same, can we do that?” He focused his eyes on the back of Hamilton’s head until he turned around and then they became focused on the deep brown eyes that were before him. 

“What about?” Alexander asked, stepping towards the bed where John sat. “I swear if this is going to be like the time where you told me about your brilliant idea that was going to revolutionize pancakes, I will tell you you’re wrong now, in advance.”

John scoffed and dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. “No, fuck no,” he mumbled, not planning on arguing with the fact that Alexander was totally wrong about that opinion of his grand plan. “No, I just wanted to like. Say that sometimes Laf is the biggest pain in the goddamn ass spews so much shit, but other times he’s fucking right, you know? I mean sort of. He was sort of right tonight kind of.”

Alexander didn’t follow his train of thought quite right. While he was definitely the “sober” one of the two, he wasn’t going to be passing a breathalyzer test anytime soon. Before he had a chance to say anything, let alone a dumb comment, John’s face was falling, obviously disappointed. But Alexander didn’t know why; what had he missed, what had he said, what had he done to see that look on his dear friend’s face. 

“You’re missing the point, ain’t you?” the seated man mumbled and Alexander gave a bit of a nod, a concentrated look coming across his face.

“Are you referring to when Lafayette talked about how Burr is just saying what Washington wants to hear to get the internship? Because Laf was right about that, Burr fucking brags about it too, but what Burr doesn’t fucking see is that Washington sees right through that shit, straight fucking through,” he said, getting worked up. He had applied for the same internship after all so it was a competition. 

“No, dear lord. Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, you have given me a curse within Hamilton,” he said, shaking his head in annoyance as he cursed his luck. He rarely spoke aloud when it came to his religion and the religion he was brought up with, but it came out every once in awhile in moments like these where he defaulted on memories from long ago due to drunkenness. “I’m referring to when Laf made a fool of you after you made a fool of yourself, asking about my hair, pft.”

This time Alexander was quick on the uptake and his face immediately turned a light shade of red. He didn’t need to be discussing this when the two of them were so intoxicated, he could only foresee this going poorly. “Oh, you mean when he mentioned that you’re attractive,” he said, hoping that would avoid the conversation that he knew John was pining for. “Which you are, my dear Laurens. You simply are a stunningly handsome man and it would be a shame if anyone were to strip you of anything you hold dear.” He stepped closer, closing the space between them. He reached out and caught the hair tie holding John’s hair in place before gently removing it, watching his face closely to see any hint of protest in his eyes.

Alexander didn’t find any as he ran his fingers through John’s hair, smoothing it out after being in a ponytail for so long. “Like your hair,” he mused and John laughed, the sound no more than a gentle breath coming from smiling lips. 

“Like you,” John responded, his voice low as he spoke. “If stripped of what I hold dear, they would strip you from me, you know that right?”

It hadn’t occurred to Hamilton that he may be of such importance to his best friend, but in that moment he realized how stupid that was. Just as he realized how stupid it was to deny his feelings to the one who knew him best of all. 

“My dear Laurens,” he murmured, his voice barely above that of a whisper as his hand moved from running through the other’s dark, curly hair to rest upon his freckled cheek. His lips quirked into a smile that John returned. “I have been foolish in denying myself simple pleasures for a long time and I have been in the business of denying myself the most fantastic of pleasures for even longer. Maybe it’s time that I stop…”

John wasn’t about to let enough time to pass that Alexander would change his mind and so he was quick, quick to close the distance between their lips and lose himself in Alexander and the buzz of alcohol still in the back of his mind for just a moment. Part of him wondered if he would remember this in the morning, but it truly didn’t matter to him at this point.

He’d been wanting this since the day he met the unstoppable force that was Alexander Hamilton and he wasn’t going to let this moment go if he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:
> 
> Oh, mon ami, notre ami monsieur Hamilton - Oh, my friend, our friend Mr. Hamilton  
> le plus bel homme à Columbia. - the handsomest man at Columbia  
> amour - love
> 
> side note: I don't know any French and so my friend helped with this part. I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, do let me know.
> 
> I reserve the right to make changes to the title, tags, and content of this fic at anytime.
> 
> I also want to introduce Lafayette as nonbinary later on, but I haven't decided just yet.
> 
> Please let me know what you think either in a comment on here, or send me an ask on my tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/).


	2. Protests and Invites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel Seabury doesn't know how much most of the campus hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I don't understand is why I don't see more college au fics with Samuel Seabury protesting and I needed to change that so have this wild ride.
> 
> The last chapter was sort of meant as a prologue to set the stage for the Hamilton/Laurens relationship so there was a sense of how it came to be and what not. This one is where a lot of actual plot comes through.
> 
> TWs for this chapter: Transphobic language, deadnaming (so many), and references to emotional manipulation

“The fact that a man can simply say he’s a woman and go into the woman’s bathrooms here at Columbia, our school, is an atrocity that I will not stand for! This is an invasion of privacy and downright harassment of all people! We must rally together and take this to the board; I refuse to let this excuse of ‘non-discrimination’ ruin our school!” shouted a Mr. Samuel Seabury from his makeshift stage set up on the lawn in front of the library. There was a small crowd gathering around the man who was spewing what many students would consider hate speech.

John wanted to ignore him, ignore the rally entirely and focus on getting to class. On a good day, if he were in a better mood, he would likely attempt to argue and shut down the flawed arguments that came spilling out of the uninformed one’s mouth, but he was exhausted, having stayed up all night to finish a paper that his roommate and now boyfriend had finished two weeks prior (sometimes he hated that about Alexander). He and Alexander were planning on meeting up with Eliza at the campus cafe near the building they were heading to before class and they had enough time to do just that if they ignored the rally and just kept walking.

That didn’t happen however because Alexander Hamilton was an unstoppable force of nature. An unstoppable force of nature that one John Laurens happened to be dating.

The second they were able to hear the words coming out of good ol’ Sam’s mouth instead of just the background noise it provided, Alexander had already made up his mind to start a fight. Whether it remained a verbal sparring match or devolved into fists and bloody noses, it didn’t matter to him, but he had to do _something_. He couldn’t let this asshole just keep spewing this unfounded bigotry. Especially unfounded bigotry that targeted his boyfriend.

“I hope you’re open for some discussion!” Alexander shouted as he made his way through the crowd, quickly dropping John’s hand so he could push through the small gathered audience with ease. John hung back, part of him wanting to ditch his boyfriend here entirely so he could still make it to the cafe and get some much needed coffee into his system. Instead, he opted to text Eliza while Alexander made his scene and climbed onto the stage beside Samuel.

_**To Eliza Schuyler:** did you know that our good friend samuel seabury was holding another rally in the main quad today?  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** because he is._

**_From Eliza Schuyler:_** _What is he spouting today? Is Alexander getting in the middle of it?_  
**_From Eliza Schuyler:_** _Wait, don’t answer that because I already know._  
**_From Eliza Schuyler:_** _Want me to bring you a medium soy peppermint latte? It’s out of season, but I think the barista has a crush on me. ;)_

_**To Eliza Schuyler:** he’s being especially transphobic today.  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** yes please! you’re absolutely lovely, i could kiss you! ( ^3^ )_

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Oh bother, Alexander must be having a field day with this.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** On my way!  <3 _

John pocketed his phone and smiled a bit before looking up to see how Alexander was doing up on the stage. He was red in the face and obviously very frustrated with Samuel, the man had a tendency to just repeat himself instead of actually having a debate with anyone. Right now, his boyfriend was taking a bit of a deep breath before attempting to continue the argument. John was just glad to see people in the crowd he recognized as Samuel Seabury Regular Hecklers™, folks who regularly came to his rallies (of which he had quite a few of) to give him a hard time.

“There hasn’t been one incident of a trans woman harassing cis women in the bathroom, especially on this campus since the Discrimination Doctrine was last updated to include trans people and their right to use the restrooms and other facilities that align with their gender,” Alexander was soon shouting to the crowd. He managed to get the second microphone that was there for Samuel’s allies and partners in crime from the wide eyed freshman that Samuel had convinced to help him set up the equipment. “Your constant need to invalidate and misgender these people is considered harassment under this university’s own bylaws.”

This just seemed to upset Samuel more and before he had a chance to respond to the accusations that were being thrown his way, Alexander was off again. His mouth moving a mile a minute. “But does the university do anything to shut you down? No, because every time there is a student lead petition to stop your rallies and hate speech, you cry ‘first amendment!’ and run back to your frat house full of other bigots whose fathers then threaten to pull funding from the school because you can’t stand to be told you’re wrong and face the consequences, isn’t that right?”

John rolled his eyes a little, looking towards the lecture hall he knew they needed to be at in about a half an hour. A while ago John had decided that arguing with Samuel, while fun, was next to pointless and he would only do it if he could guarantee that he could egg the other into a fist fight. Luckily, he could see Eliza making her way over with a travel tray carrying three paper cups and her light blue scarf tucked carefully into the front of her long coat. It was March and the chill was ever present in the New York air.

“Coffee delivery for a Mr. Laurens,” Eliza said with a smile as she pulled the coffee that belonged to him from the tray. He took it was a smile and mumbled thanks, sipping it carefully to judge how hot it really was. It was still a bit too hot to gulp, but sipping would work for the time being. “How’s he doing up there?”

“He’s got his points down solid, but it’s Seabury we’re talking about here. He just repeats everything until his opponent gives up and Alexander doesn’t so it’ll be a battle of wits, like always,” John mumbled and Eliza nodded her agreement. She was still working on her undergraduate degree, a couple of years behind the two law students. They had met early on her freshman year at a party put on by her older sister Angelica who had recently gone to study abroad in England. Out of everyone in their friend group, Alexander probably talked to the absent Schuyler the most. Even in comparison to her sisters. 

“Why aren’t you getting riled up about it? Seems like something kind of important to you,” Eliza pointed out and John gave a shrug in response before checking his watch. Alexander was doing a pretty solid job of ripping Seabury a new one on his own, even if he wouldn’t back down.

“I’m not exactly out campus-wide, you know,” he said with a sigh, a twinge of pain in his voice. He wanted to be out. He wanted everyone to call him John, in class and around campus, but there were too many folks around who had contacts with his father, who would out him to his dad given the chance. Dating Alexander was already risky enough due to his widespread out and proud reputation on campus, something that Henry Laurens was familiar with, but it wasn’t damning at this point. Sure the boy his _daughter_ was dating was queer, but _Margaret_? There was nothing to fear. 

Eliza seemed to understand and didn’t ask anymore of him while Hamilton continued the argument with Seabury. He was now citing suicide and homicide statistics and Seabury for once looked lost and unsure of what he was going to say next. It surprised no one when he continued to repeat himself, now shouting over Alexander so he could drown him out instead of actually attempting a debate.

Checking his watch yet again, John realized that class started in about fifteen minutes and they had a bit of a walk to make. He wished Lafayette or Hercules was there because, if push came to shove, they would have the physical strength to drag Alexander from the stage. John probably could too, he realized, but not when they were arguing about trans rights and he had seen more than a couple of camera flashes and a handful of people he recognized as Columbia Spectator staff writers. He didn’t need to end being mentioned or pictured in the paper as part of an article about Alexander defending trans rights, that would only serve to be more ammunition for his father to use against him. Not to mention what name and pronouns they would use for him; Margaret and she would just be painful, but John and he would be damning.

Eliza, bless that woman, had realized the crunch for time on her own accord and quickly passed her coffee off to John before pushing her way up to the stage with the drink she had gotten for Alexander. He barely noticed her approach and nearly screeched in surprise when she tugged on his pants to get his attention. Luckily, he managed to put a lid on it before leaning down to hear what she had to say. His face paled slightly before he passed the mic off and jumped down off the platform, several groans arising from the audience. 

By the time they emerged from the crowd, Alexander was clutching his coffee for dear life and playfully glaring at Eliza. 

“She threatened to dump my daily dose of caffeine on the ground if I didn’t come quick to head to class on time,” Alexander tattled as the three of them started heading towards their lecture hall, Eliza’s own coffee back in her hands.

“Is that all she threatened?” John asked skeptically, dramatically looking to Eliza as he reached to intertwine his fingers with Alexander’s as they walked. It was just cold enough that John was regretting not wearing gloves, but as they walked he had Alexander’s hand to warm his own up; both hands tucked into John’s hoodie pocket.

“No, but it was the most traumatizing,” Alexander relented and Eliza gave her best innocent smile..

“I don’t know what he’s talking about at all,” she said, purposefully looking to the sky before all three of them started cracking up. 

They managed to make it to the lecture hall with five minutes to spare. Eliza quickly said goodbye before running off to her own class, something about Shakespeare if John remembered correctly. The doors were still locked and there were plenty of students standing around waiting to be let in.

“Professor Lee is a pain in the ass,” Alexander mumbled in between sips of his now lukewarm coffee. “He locks you out if you’re late, but he can’t even be bothered to unlock the doors early. I can’t believe this guy. Someone’s gotta do the same to him someday, wouldn’t that be fun? Lock him out of his class or organize a mutiny where we do a walk out halfway through the lecture. Man, that’s a great idea.” And sure enough he was pulling his phone out to start figuring out how to organize such a show of defiance. Within a minute, a facebook event was made and within three, Alexander was in a twitter war with one Aaron Burr over the legitimacy of such a protest.

John just chuckled softly, watching his boyfriend get wrapped up in his own little world while time still moved for him, not stopping for anyone but Alexander. It occurred to John that this would be as good time as any to check his own phone, surprised to see a text from his sister, Martha.

_**From Martha Laurens:** hey!! check your email, numbskull!  
**From Martha Laurens:** dad says he emailed you and that it’s important._

He frowned, quickly opening up his email which he hadn’t check in several days, and sure enough, there was an email waiting for him from his father.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

> To: **m.laurens@columbia.edu**  
>  From: **henry.laurens0306@gmail.com**
> 
> _Marge,_
> 
> _I just talked to my dear friend Richard Oswald, your Evidence professor. He told me that you had not applied for his internship. He’s a prominent defense attorney, one who has been a good friend to our family for many years now. He makes good money and not applying for his internship is a grave mistake for your future career._
> 
> _You’re a sensible young woman, despite your romantic pursuits, and I hope you will realize the opportunity you are missing by not applying for such an internship. Professor Oswald has agreed to extend the deadline to ensure he receives your application. I hope I will soon be congratulating you on your internship._
> 
> _In other news, I will be in New York next week for a business meeting and intend to take you and your friend Alexander out to dinner while I have the chance. I have already made the reservations required at Per Se. Do tell Alexander to dress up, I know he is not familiar with the manners that I raised you on._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Henry_

  
He read and then reread the email, his face paling. Everything his father was telling, not asking, him to do was the opposite of what he wanted right this moment. Becoming a defense attorney wasn’t exactly his intention, but how was he expected to explain to his father that he wanted to become a civil rights attorney and specifically work with nonprofits that aided those who couldn’t afford most legal counsel? Hell, going to dinner with his father was only further down on his list of “Things I Totally Don’t Want To Do” than _seeing_ his father.

He took a bit of a deep breath as he read the email a third time. Henry Laurens wouldn’t even acknowledge that Alexander Hamilton and him were dating. Hell, they’d been dating for several months now. John had brought him home for _Christmas_ which, in all honesty, had been risky but they were only in town for a couple of days before rushing back to New York. John had been worried that Alexander would accidentally out him to his entire family if they stayed there any longer than they had to, despite Alexander’s assurances that he wouldn’t. While John loved his boyfriend’s passion and quick wit, he was genuinely concerned about the other’s temper and need to make sure John was comfortable. Being called “Marge” and “she” were in no ways comfortable.

John was so worked up over the email that he hadn’t noticed Lee coming to unlock the door and head inside. He didn’t even notice the mass of students heading inside. It wasn’t until Alexander’s hand was wrapping gently around his wrist that he even took his eyes off his phone, looking to his boyfriend. Alexander must have noticed that something was off because the annoyed look that would normally be there was gentle and concerned, his eyebrows knit together.

“What’s wrong?” he asked and John had to take a deep breath to find his voice to reply. 

“My dad’s coming to visit and uh, we’re going to a fancy restaurant. He wanted me to remind you to dress nicely and I… I need to go buy a nice dress for the occasion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still figuring out how to format text messages and emails so I'm going with this format and I hope that works. hmu on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com) or my Hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com).


	3. Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Crew goes out for lunch and serious talk happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proofread this and I had a bunch of false starts and what not. For some reason I struggled with this chapter, but it's done and now I can move on to the "fun" chapters, so you have those to look forward to.
> 
> TWs for this chapter would probably be transphobia and dickish dads.

“What do you mean you need to buy a nice dress? Are you insane?”

Alexander had managed to sit through Lee’s entire lecture without pestering John in one way or another, which was honestly impressive. But now that Lee was nowhere to be seen and everyone was packing up to go, Alexander couldn’t keep his curiosities locked away any longer. He had been practically vibrating the entire lecture and now it was starting to spill out. 

John took a deep breath as he hiked his backpack higher up on his shoulder, not answering his boyfriend’s question as he headed out of the lecture hall. Alexander jogged after him, handfuls of loose-leaf notes and half formed questions and protests falling from his lips. John half-heartedly wondered if Alexander noticed how crumpled his notes were getting, but he would probably type them up later, not like he even needed them.

“John, come on,” Alexander groaned and John finally stopped walking, stopping in an alcove out of the way of students actually using the hall. He didn’t say anything right away, huffing and looking anywhere but at Alexander. “Come on, look at me. Talk to me. This is a big deal and you’re brushing it off.”

Chewing on his inner cheek, John finally looked back at his boyfriend. “It’s not as big of a deal as you’re turning it into, we can talk about it later. Come on, we’re meeting Lafayette and Herc for lunch,” he said, voice pleading. 

To John’s surprise, Alexander dropped it and gave a bit of a nod. “Fine. We’ll talk later,” he said and finally managed to shove his notes into his backpack, hoisting it up onto his shoulder so he could take John’s hand. A small smile crossed his face from the contact, the slight warmth and overall comfort it brought him was indescribable. He took a bit of a breath before moving to pull Alexander towards the cheap diner that they had agreed to meet their friends at.

They walked in near silence to the diner, which was odd for the couple. Between Alexander’s nonstop mouth and John’s need for filler sound, on any other day one of them would be talking. But John was too wrapped up in his own thoughts which lead to Alexander being worried about saying the wrong thing. It was already very apparent that John’s father had done something to hit a nerve and he wasn’t ready to address it, but Alexander couldn’t guarantee that he could keep off the subject if he were to let his mind wander. The silence between them for the time being wasn’t uncomfortable, luckily, just out of place.

The silence was broken as they headed into the diner and soon spotted Hercules and Lafayette putting in their names with the hostess. Herc quickly greeted them, shaking hands with them and clapping them on the back in a sort of half-assed hug. It made John smile and Alexander grinned. “Hey guys,” he said, adjusting his backpack and letting go of John’s hand for the time being. “How long we gotta wait?”

Lafayette gave a bit of a shrug while he pressed chaste kisses to both of the men’s cheeks before them. “It’s a French, thing!” he had told them when he had done it the first time. “Are you trying to strip me of my culture?” They hadn’t after all and after a while, they had begun to notice that Lafayette only really did it with them and on the occasion, Jefferson. The fact that Lafayette and Jefferson were even friends in the first place confused Alexander and John, but they had found that Laf stayed neutral for the most parts during confrontations with Alexander’s foe and so Alexander didn’t push it. 

About five minutes later they were being seated in a cozy booth in the back corner of the restaurant. It was the only booth open and Lafayette refused to sit at any other kind of table if he could help it, and he could help it. They piled in and Alexander was disappointed with how much space was between him and his boyfriend, but he didn’t push it. They were rather quiet for a couple of minutes, working their way through the menus to decide what they all wanted. It didn’t take long, having been coming here for the entirety of the time they’d been at Columbia meant they new the menu better than some of the kitchen staff.

“Alright, mon amis,” Laf said with a wide smile as he set his menu down. There was no question that he was going to get the “Heart Attack Burger” which was easily the greasiest, most American thing on the menu due to how much bacon and oil it was coated in. He always ordered it, along with a large side of french fries. “Now what has the stick shoved up dear Laurens’ ass, hm? You too Hamilton, je comprends pas, you come in with your lips zipped shut. It makes no sense, no sense at all.”

Hercules nodded in agreement, taking a drink from his glass of root beer. “He’s right, you know,” he added. “It’s a cold day in hell when Alexander Hamilton’s lips stop moving and oh? What was that? Is there a breeze in here?” He laughed a bit and rubbed at his arms to accentuate his point, Lafayette following suit.

John opened his mouth to give some bullshit excuse, but Alexander beat him to it. “John’s shit father is coming to town and apparently I have to see him,” he said, crossing his arms. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. If John didn’t want to expand on the topic, he knew he could just nod and agree. But… That wouldn’t feel right. Talking it out with his best friends was probably the smart thing to do.

“He’s taking Alexander and I out to dinner, but he still refuses to admit that I’m dating him, probably because he’s queer in all honestly,” he said, shutting himself with his Sprite. He could say so much more; complain about the internship, complain about his father forcing him to become a lawyer in the first place, complain about just how rigid his father’s beliefs were. There was so much he could say, but he didn’t need to unload so much baggage at lunch with friends.

Hercules' eyes widened a bit, taking in the information. He met Lafayette’s gaze, one of equal concern for their friends before looking back to the distraught John and wound up Alexander. Herc was going to say something, hoping to ease the tension, when Alexander spoke and that idea was thrown out completely.

“John says he’s going to wear a dress to dinner and I’m just so not okay with that,” he said, huffing and crossing his arms. His foot had started tapping, the real sign that his mind was reeling. His fingers drummed out an unheard beat against his forearm as he stared ahead, but not at Hercules, simply into space. 

“And that’s a problem because…?” Lafayette ventured. As someone who frequently wore dresses and other such feminine articles of clothing, he didn’t quite understand the implication that John couldn’t wear a dress to dinner with his father. If he wanted to, he should be able to after all!

“Because he won’t be comfortable in it!” Alexander nearly shouted and John let out a long sigh which brought his boyfriend’s attention to him. “What? You want to tell me that you’ll be totally fine to spend a night in a dress and heels? Actually, let’s get Eliza and Peggy involved. Have them do your makeup and hair and lend you jewelry to borrow so you can be uncomfortable and keep up this elaborate lie -”

“Hamilton!” Hercules snapped and shut the babbling Puerto Rican up. “I get that you care about John’s safety and comfort and shit, but you’re attacking him right now and I don’t know if you even realize you’re being a huge fucking cock monster right now.” Alexander bit his lip, a slight effort to shut himself up because holy shit he had totally just attacked his boyfriend who was already upset about the dinner in the first place.

Lafayette let out a low whistle and quickly flagged down a waitress so they could all order and in turn change the topic. Alexander may have been fuming about how much he hated John’s father, but he wasn't about to chew his boyfriend out for how he chose to handle the problem right this second. Chewing him out at all was a bad idea. God how could he have been so stupid.

The table was quiet for a little while, Alexander beating himself up mentally and John trying to disappear into himself. Neither of them wanted to be there anymore and it was obvious. Lafayette and Hercules shared a handful of glances, unsure of how to go forward with the situation. Laf seemed to have gotten the proverbial short straw and spoke first.

"Mon amis," he said and they all looked towards him. "This was not the lunch I was anticipating when I invited you all out." Alexander couldn't help the amused snort that came from his mouth and John chuckled as well. Hercules smiled, Lafayette was working his social magic, something that even he himself didn't understand. Maybe it was the French accent or perhaps the way that half of everything he said sounded exasperated, but Lafayette's words, no matter how simple, had a way of deescalating even the most intense arguments. The proof was in the pudding after all; in the dining hall their first year of law school, Alexander had gotten into it with Jefferson and Lafayette had single-handedly sent both men back to their dorms. Without dinner.

"Why don't we talk about something other than John's father and wardrobe choices? Like Alexander, what the fuck is with this 'Lee Walkout' facebook event you've invited me to? I don't even have Lee as a professor. I've been avoiding him like the plague," Hercules said, hoping that he could successfully change the subject.

And it seemed to work. Alexander was soon wrapped up in explaining the injustices of Lee's curriculum and classroom rules which turned into an explanation of the twitter war with Burr. John slowly started participating in the conversation, soon distracting himself from the email he had received. It was easy to eat and laugh with them, there was nothing to worry about, nothing to hide. 

As lunch started to come to an end, the email came up yet again. This time it was Hercules who mentioned it.

"John, if you want to talk about what your father said, we're all ready to listen, you know," he said and Lafayette nodded in agreement. Alexander reached over and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to let him know he was there and he was there to be supportive. 

"Basically the email was a whole lot of 'why aren't you doing law school the way I want you to' and 'I'm taking you and Alexander to dinner at Per Se so dress nice and make sure he behaves' because of course he can't recognize that we're dating and of course he has no idea that I don't want to be a defense attorney," he said with a little huff, glad to have Alexander's hand in his.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what you wanted to do, just what your major was,” Hercules mused and Lafayette nodded in agreement. Conversation that continued after “Oh, I’m a law student.” lead to different questions like, “What kind of law are you planning on going into?” Not, “What’s your dream job?”

“Honestly? I wanted to be a doctor or a marine biologist, but my father vetoed both and so I’m in law school,” he said, running his free hand through his hair as their plates were cleared off the table. “I’m hoping to follow civil rights law or environmental law at this point as kind of a middle finger to my dad to show him that I can still do what I want to do, but I’m not going to tell him that anytime soon.”

“Fair enough,” Lafayette murmured and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “Now on to the fun and upsetting questions, how do you intend to make Alexander behave at dinner with your father.”

Hercules nodded in agreement, a small grin on his face. “That sounds like the biggest challenge you’ll be facing next week.”

“And fitting into a size 8 when I haven’t been watching my girlish figure,” John said with a huff, pulling his hand from his boyfriend’s grip. “Look, I know that at very least Alexander thinks it’s stupid, but I do need to wear a dress to this dinner. If I wear anything but my dad will know something is up or worse, just punish me later. It’s stupid and I’m going to be miserable the whole time, but I have to do it. And you know what,” he turned towards his boyfriend who was pouting, “getting Eliza and Peggy to do my hair and makeup is a great idea. I’ll actually look like I put thought into my appearance if I do that.”

Alexander sighed and rested a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh. “I don’t want you to do something that will make you so miserable, you know that, right? That’s why I’m against it. Not because I don’t think it’s alright for guys to wear dresses and shit, I mean Lafayette does it all the time.”

“Not a guy, you know,” Lafayette said with a bit of a smirk. “Nonbinary. I think agender fits best, but genderqueer is also promising. All pronouns welcome.”

This caused everyone to pause and look to Lafayette in surprise. Hercules managed to find his voice first.

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” he asked and the frenchman laughed. 

“It never came up and well, I saw an opportunity. Labels aren’t really my thing, but I figured that Laurens knowing he’s not the only trans one here would be nice,” he said with a shrug and John laughed slightly. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled and Lafayette gave him a thumbs up.

“Anyway, now that Laf has officially come out as the queerest son of a bitch,” Alexander said, which had Lafayette grinning widely as if to say ‘That’s me!’ “I just wanted to make sure that you totally get what I’m saying, John. I don’t care what you’re comfortable with or how you present yourself, as long as you’re comfortable.”

“I get it, Alexander. I really do. But where my father is involved, I will never be comfortable as long as my aim is to please him.”

“What a fucking prick,” Herc mumbled under his breath and Lafayette nodded.

“I’ll drink to that,” he murmured in response, downing the rest of his Coke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com) or my Hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com). 
> 
> I love the comments that I've received thus far and I really appreciate them!! I don't tend to reply to comments because I just get wrapped up in "What do I say other than thanks?" so that's why I haven't said anything and I apologize!! 
> 
> Anyway, until next time!


	4. Shopping and Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza and Peggy take John shopping and Alexander remembers (in vivid detail) the worst Christmas ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty this chapter is a lot longer than any of the other chapters and about half of it is a flashback, I apologize. But we get a taste of John's family so I don't feel too bad.
> 
> TWs this chapter are references to abuse, dysphoria mentions, and even more dickish dads.

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Alexander, favorite color?_

_**From Alexander Hamilton:** Black like Jefferson’s soul._

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Haha, very funny.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** While I agree that John would look good in a little black dress, I don’t think it’s appropriate for dinner with his father._

_**From Alexander Hamilton:** Clear._

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Now you’re just being a pain._

__**From Alexander Hamilton:** He shouldn’t have to wear a dress, he’s going to be miserable the whole dinner.  
**From Alexander Hamilton:** He’s only doing it because of his dad.  
**From Alexander Hamilton:** Fuck Henry Laurens.  
**From Alexander Hamilton:** If he had a twitter, I’d e-fight him. 

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Like Burr?  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** Thankfully he doesn’t._

_**From Alexander Hamilton:** Blue. Put him in blue._

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Way ahead of you.  <3_

* * *

Eliza walked John to his apartment with an opaque light pink dress bag in hand. The elevator ride up to the fourth floor was quiet, John leaning against the wall with his own bags in hand and hanging at his sides. The two local Schuyler sisters had taken it upon themselves to take John dress shopping for the big dinner, as a favor to Alexander and John. If he had followed through with his original plan, John would’ve had his ear talked off by his boyfriend and he couldn’t have possibly been held responsible for what would have occurred when Alexander would have ultimately muttered something about John not needing to wear a dress for the thousandth fucking time.

Alexander was waiting for them, laying upside down on the couch with his computer on the floor. He was working on an essay or an internship application, John wasn’t exactly sure, and looked up from the notes that were lying everywhere, covering the floor of their living room. Eliza clicked her tongue at him disapprovingly but didn’t say anything as John lead her into the bedroom to hang up the dress and unload the bags.

“It’s Thursday, right? At six?” she clarified and John nodded, pulling out a new sweatshirt the Schuylers had bought him. They had felt guilty that they were running around the mall in search of a dress that he would wear once at an uncomfortable dinner, so they’d treated him as well which meant that he had come home with much more than a dress in hand.

“Yeah, the restaurant is like twenty minutes from here,” he said, fussing with the sweatshirt before folding it up and tucking it away in his dresser. Eliza nodded slightly as she hung up the dress bag in the back of Alexander and John’s shared closet. There wasn’t much in there other than a handful of fancy suits and a tux of Alex’s along with suits and dress shirts of John’s. As law students, there came times where they needed to look professional and so all their fancy clothes stayed hanging up, most of them in bags.

“So you two need to be ready by five-twenty because you need to leave here by five-thirty. My last class that day is over at one-thirty and Peggy’s is done at three. Alexander just needs a shower and to be forced into something decent, which he owns. Plus maybe some help with his hair,” Eliza mused, thinking aloud before plopping down on the bed. John was still sorting through the bag of other clothes that had been purchased for him, a couple of shirts now being tucked away where they belonged. “You…”

“I know, I need a lot of work,” John mumbled, his tone breaking Eliza’s heart. She was glad that Alexander was still wrapped up in whatever he was doing in the living room, knowing that he would have brought up how stupid John wearing a dress was for the upteenth time.

“We’re turning a handsome young man into a respectable southern belle,” Eliza said with a grin, hoping that the comment would ease his concerns. If his dad wouldn’t validate his identity, his friends could do so easily and so that was the idea. “That’s a lot of work, John. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

Eliza got what she wanted when John chuckled while shaking his head slightly, holding a sweater that they had purchased for him. He was a bit distracted as he ran his fingers over the material, thoughts of the dinner and his father overwhelming him. But he wasn’t going to let it get to him, not right now at least.

“Alexander’s got class until about two that day and I’m out at noon,” he said folding the sweater up. “The bulk of my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, honestly. I only have one class on Thursdays.” Eliza took the information with a nod, resting her arms behind her head as she thought of how she wanted to work the schedules for Thursday afternoon. 

“We want plenty of time to get ready, but I don’t want to force you into the dress hours beforehand if we don’t have to. I mean, you’ve got pretty bad dysphoria from what I remember you telling me so I don’t want to have to cause more pain than the dinner already will,” she mused, only looking from the ceiling to the door when she heard it open slightly. Alexander had come into the room.

“Sorry, I was just finishing up an article for the Spectator about the Lee Walkout. How did shopping go?” he asked and now they knew what Alexander had been working on when they came in. John chuckled slightly, amused by his boyfriend’s dedication to his bizarre protest of unfair classroom policies.

“We came home with a dress,” John said with a bit of a shrug as he pulled out a pair of jeans. They were the last thing in the bag that he soon folded up and set it on the top of the dresser for the time being.

“And Peggy and I went a little overboard and spoiled him,” Eliza said as she sat up on the bed with a bit of a grin at Alexander who rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to mention it in front of John, but he was grateful that the Schuylers had gone out of their way to make the shopping experience a bit more positive for John. 

“Can I see the dress?” he asked and John shook his head before Eliza had a chance to agree to anything.

“Nope, nuh uh,” John said, crossing his arms across his chest. “I am wearing it for one night, and one night only, and while I will look fantastic that night because of the Schuyler expertise I shall be receiving, you do not get to have any idea what I’m going to look like until then. Partly because I’m uncomfortable with you seeing me that way and partly because,” he paused a moment before making sure that his southern accent was obvious, “I’m a good southern belle who won’t have her man seeing her all gussied up before the big day.”

This caused Eliza to laugh and the boys followed suit, John plopping down on the edge of the bed as he smiled at his boyfriend. After a few moments, their laughter quieted and John reached out for Alexander’s hand which was soon in his, no questions asked. He took in a shaky breath, trying not to let it show how anxious he was for Thursday, for dinner, but it was so painfully obvious to Alexander and Eliza. 

“John, I’ll come over after class on Thursday at about two,” Eliza said, hoping that giving John a concrete plan would be helpful but knowing it wouldn’t ease his anxieties. “I’ll bring food too, some of those chili cheese fries from the place across the street from my house.”

John nodded and gave Alexander’s hand a squeeze. “I’m gonna run out and go rent a movie for tonight,” Alexander said, giving his boyfriend a kiss to his temple. “I’ll pick up a shit load of shitty movie snacks too and ice cream because you can never go wrong with ice cream and romantic comedies.”

With that, Alexander slipped away from John after giving him another kiss, to his boyfriend’s lips this time. Eliza and John waited until they heard the front door of the apartment shut before either one of them spoke.

John broke the silence. “I think Alexander is going to fuck up this dinner with my father,” he said quietly and Eliza gave a slight nod. The two of them didn’t say anything as they thought that over. What could they do to even try and make sure Alexander wouldn’t fuck it up? Duct tape his mouth shut? Only let him say a total of 50 words? It was hopeless, there was no solution.

“Put faith in him,” Eliza said after a long moment. “I don’t know how well it will turn out, but he loves you, that much is obvious. He’ll probably make some snide comments that your dad will be upset over, but I don’t think you can help that and neither can Alexander. That boy has no sense of what filtering his thoughts would even look like, let alone how to do it.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to put faith in him. I can trust him with anything that doesn’t involve what comes out of his mouth,” John said, throwing himself back on the bed so he was laying down and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s one of the reasons I fell for him. He’s always so honest with his opinions and beliefs… And if he lies to you about something, depending on the lie, you have a ten minute to three month window of when he’ll break down feeling guilty about it and fess up.”

Eliza leaned over and started to run her fingers through the loose strands of John’s hair, undoing the ponytail when it was obvious that it was a positive thing for her to be doing for the other. The two of them went quiet for some time yet again, John’s head eventually finding its way into Eliza’s lap as she continued to card her fingers through it. It was helping him calm down and that’s what mattered. The couple of tears from the corners of his eyes were ignored and not brought up.

“He’s going to accidentally out you to your father,” Eliza whispered after a long moment and John gave a weak nod. “Whether it’s this dinner or because he can’t keep his mouth shut around the right people, we don’t know, but it’s… It’s definitely safe to say that Alexander Hamilton is likely the reason your father will find out that you are trans.”

“I know,” John muttered bitterly. “And I hate it, but I love him.”

* * *

Alexander had needed to get out of the apartment. He couldn’t describe why it all felt like it was suffocating him, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to talk about Thursday and what was going to happen. He didn’t want to think about what he was going to wear and he really didn’t want to think about what John was going to wear. God, the idea of seeing Henry Laurens again wasn't one that Alexander even wanted to entertain. 

Over winter break, John had managed to convince both his father and Alexander to allow him to bring his boyfriend with him when he came home for Christmas. He'd managed to work it out that they were only there for two days, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but even those two days were torturous. 

Alexander had been terrified to speak around any of the Laurens family. He knew that he would fuck something up, use the wrong name or pronouns, say something about himself, anything that would raise red flags. Referring to John as Marge and she had been the hardest part of the entire trip, but seeing John happy… That had been so easy.

Luckily Henry Laurens had been busy throughout most of the holiday and so John had relished the time with his siblings. The five of them didn’t bat an eye at the fact that he was wearing baggy sweatshirts like their father would have and it was interesting to see John at home, with his family. Alexander enjoyed getting to know the Laurens’ siblings; Martha was a senior in high school and was looking like she was going to be the valedictorian, Henry Jr. (who went by Harry) was a freshman living in the shadow of both John and Martha, James was still in middle school and was attached to John’s hip the whole time they were there, and Mary Eleanor had just started the second grade. They all seemed rather close, despite their vast age differences. 

As someone with such a warped sense of family, Alexander couldn’t help but feel out of place. 

Henry Laurens wasn’t even present for dinner on Christmas Eve, off to some unknown meeting. John took it upon himself to make sure to feed everyone else, taking the task off the hands of the housekeeper who had been working there for as long as John could remember. He made mac and cheese with hot dogs. It was the best family dinner Alexander had ever been apart of.

The two of them spent the night in one of the guest rooms of the large estate, John having snuck in from his childhood bedroom to spend the night with his boyfriend. They stayed up a long while, talking softly, not wanting to be found out by Henry Laurens or any of John’s siblings. For a day back at home, it was promising to see John so happy.

And it made Christmas Day that much worse. 

Alexander remembered the way that the kids ran to find John, not surprised to see him curled up with Alexander in bed. They realized they were dating and acknowledged it even if Henry wouldn’t. James and Mary Eleanor were the most excited with Martha and Harry allowing themselves to be dragged along for the ride. John and Alexander went downstairs to where the tree was with the rest of the Laurens’ kids and waited for Henry to show up, chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

Henry eventually came to join them, dressed in a suit as if he was planning to leave the second he could, and that did seem to be his plan. He quickly greeted his kids, only the baby of the family, Mary Eleanor, gave him anything more than a mumble morning. She got up to give her father a hug which was quickly redirected as he moved to sit down in his chair. 

“Marge, why don’t you play Santa and pass out the gifts to everyone,” he suggested, his eyes on his phone as he typed something out. John bit his lip and took a bit of a breath.

“I play Santa every year, dad,” he said carefully, his father’s eyes never looking up at him. “How about Martha does it this year?”

“No,” came the cool response and the phone was tucked into a pocket as Henry looked to John, setting his jaw. “I told you to do it, so. It is your job. Play. Santa.”

John frowned but did as he was told, leaving Alexander’s side on the couch to go kneel on the floor in front of the tree. He was soon smiling again, his long hair getting knocked into his face as he passed out presents. He only fixed it once he was sitting back on his heels as his siblings opened the gifts he had passed out. There were very few for himself, which was to be expected as the kid away at college. His gifts were more expensive or he was forgotten about when Christmas shopping happened, so it wasn’t a hit to his ego. Hell, he was glad there was a gift under the tree for Alexander, something that Henry even seemed surprised by as John passed it to Alexander.

“Where did that come from?” Henry asked and looked to the children sitting around the room, Alexander sitting there awkwardly on the couch with the gift in hand. He hadn’t said anything since Henry came in the room, a true feat for Alexander. He had spent the entire time focusing on John and how his boyfriend was reacting to seeing his father again after so long at law school.

“Jemmy and I, Daddy!” Mary Eleanor said proudly, grabbing her brother James’ arm in excitement. “We didn’t know Margie was bringing someone to Christmas and we wanted to make sure he had a present! We got Lulu to drive us to the mall for some last minute shopping.”

Both Mary and James had grins on their faces, proud of the fact that they had done something so good. They had included their sister’s boyfriend in Christmas! Wasn’t that a good thing? They certainly thought so.

John watched his father for a reaction, a look of fear washing over his face. Alexander could see how worried he was and how honest to God scared of his father he was and it wasn’t even John who had done anything wrong.

“Your thoughtfulness is touching, but not required. Alexander is simply a friend of Marge’s and certainly not anywhere close to be considered part of the family. Christmas is a family holiday, not meant for outsiders,” Henry mused and the anger that flared up within John was obvious to Alexander’s eyes. He wanted to go to his boyfriend, who was still kneeling before the tree, and to hold him. Tell him everything would be alright and that Henry Laurens was the biggest prick known to man.

He didn’t though. Instead he opened his mouth. 

“I’ve never really had a family before, you know? So I greatly appreciated being welcomed into your home and given the opportunity to meet all of you who live here. I never got to know my father very well, he left when I was ten. I don’t remember much about him, but I’d like to think that he was a lot like you, Mr. Laurens. Driven, intelligent, had an eye for money. Maybe it’s a good thing that he left my brother and I before we got to know him,” he said, giving the elder Laurens a sweet smile. “I would have hated to love my father and know he was an uncaring monster than as I do; I hate him for leaving.”

“How dare you speak to me that way in my own-” Henry started, sitting up a little straighter before John quickly cut him off. 

“Well, it sounds like we’re all done now,” he said, shooing the James, Mary Eleanor, and Harry off quickly. Martha stayed behind, unsure of what her father was going to do and wanting to find out. He was getting to his feet, stepping towards his father in a pleading motion. “Dad, I’m sorry for Alexander’s rudeness, he and I will be leaving soon anyway, our flight leaves at-”

“It doesn’t matter, Marge,” Henry interrupted, holding a hand up to silence his child. The second he raised it, John shut up mid-sentence, balling his fists but that was it. It was obvious to Alexander right then, more than before, the kind of abuse that his boyfriend had likely suffered at his father’s hand but never spoke about. He didn’t want to think about it, just wanted to hug the other and assure him that things would be okay. “I have a meeting. I do hope that we will only have five for Christmas dinner tonight and that I didn’t give Cindy the wrong head count.”

With that, Henry Laurens left the room and John took in a deep breath. Everyone was quiet for a long moment and the three youngest Laurens were peeking their heads back into the room. No one spoke until the echoing sound of the front door shutting could be heard. John released a breath as Martha broke the silence. 

“What was that all about?” she demanded, looking between John and Alexander. “Things were going fine and then you antagonize him? Why couldn’t you just shut up? Why couldn’t we have a good family get together for once.” She crossed her arms and Alexander bit his lip, feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry, Martha,” John said, turning towards her. “It’s just… Alexander’s nature. He doesn’t really know when to shut up. I knew bringing him home with me was a bad idea…” He sighed and looked away. 

If Alexander thought he couldn’t feel anymore guilty, he was wrong. “I’m sorry for snapping at him,” he said, the apology surprising John. “I just-”

“It doesn’t matter what you just,” Martha snapped. “Dad is pissed and you two get to back to New York and he’s going to give me his shit when he gets back. Ever since you left, Marge, he’s been coming down harder on me. Telling me I need to follow in your footsteps, be as good of a student as you. I hate it.”

“It’s not my fault,” John said softly and Martha nodded, acknowledging the fact that he was right. It wasn’t John’s fault, it was their father’s. But it was so much easier to be mad at your sibling than your father.

“Alexander! Alexander!” Mary Eleanor said, running into the room while dragging James by the hand behind her. “You never opened the present from us.”

It was a good distraction and Alexander laughed softly, the tension in the room slowly falling away. 

“I guess I’ll do that now then,” he mused, starting to undo the paper. He was too busy unwrapping the notebook that the younger two had bought and covered in stickers that he didn’t see Martha and John hug tightly until he looked up and saw their arms around each other, both looking rather lost. Alexander never wanted to see John look that way again…

And dinner with Henry Laurens this coming Thursday was going to bring that look back and Alexander just hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have John's age exactly set in stone if I'm being honest, but his siblings are all the correct years apart from each other. James (Jemmy) Laurens died when he was 9 in real life, but I've made it so he's not dead and a cute little kid so I hope I'm forgiven. Their mother however is dead, following the birth of Mary Eleanor.  
> The ages of all the Laurens' kids are:  
> John - between 23 and 25  
> Martha - 18  
> Henry Jr (Harry) - 14  
> James (Jemmy) - 12  
> Mary Eleanor - 7
> 
> I never end up proofreading (unfortunately) so let me know if there's any mistakes I should fix.
> 
> Also, Washington, Burr, and Jefferson will all come into play super soon. I hope you don't mind their absence for the time being.
> 
> Any questions, feel free to message me on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my Hamilton tumblr [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/). The latter is still in the works and I'm not on it too often, but you never know.
> 
> Leave a comment or send me an ask to boost my ego. You know you want to. ;)


	5. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Henry Laurens is something nobody wants at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one lmao, for me at least jesus.
> 
> TWs for this chapter are transphobia up the wazzoo, lots of daddy issues, outing of a trans character, references to trans murders and trans/gay panic defenses. Lots of that kind of bullshit. The entire dinner is a trainwreck let's be real.

“Hamilton, I swear to God you need to stop moving.”

“You keep pulling my hair! I can’t help it!”

Peggy huffed and gave Alexander’s long hair a rough tug back towards her which caused him to yelp in surprise. This made the youngest Schuyler sister smile before Eliza poked her head out of the bedroom to see what the commotion in the living room was all about. 

"Peggy, I need you to not make Alexander cry out in pain because every time you do it distracts me and then has John all worried about how you're torturing his boyfriend. He may deserve it, but these boys need to be ready to go in twenty minutes and Laurens' hair hasn't even been touched," the older sister said, glaring at Peggy.

"Fine, I'm almost done with him anyway, he's just a big baby who has no idea how to let someone else put his hair in a freaking ponytail," she grumbled and Eliza went back into the bedroom where John was sitting on the bed, nervously twiddling his thumbs. The boy before her looked nothing like the man she had grown close to; his freckles covered with foundation, the dark blue dress he was wearing fit tightly against his body, his eyes were accentuated with eyeliner and a carefully constructed smokey eye, his lips were painted a plum color.

He looked so unhappy and uncomfortable and it broke her heart. 

“Alright we’re going to try to tame your hair a bit and by that I mean I’m going to attempt to straighten it,” she said, giving John a hopeful smile. He gave a bit of a nod, trying to force himself to appear calm and not like he was freaking the fuck out even though he was.

“I haven’t straightened my hair since high school,” he said with a slight smile and Eliza nodded as well.

“Well, I don’t know much about your father other than he’s a huge prick, but something tells me he has a tendency to think that natural hair looks unprofessional, so he keeps his short and wishes that yours looks as ‘normal’ as possible,” she mused and John gave a slight confirming nod. While he couldn’t exactly confirm or deny the accusation, it made sense and so he’d go with it. 

“Let’s go into the bathroom, Peggy’s flat iron should be in there,” she said and he got to his feet, walking hesitantly in the heels he was wearing. They weren’t very tall luckily, but when you never wore the things and had no desire to attempt to master them, they were absolute hell. “Heel to toe, John. I know it’s hard because you don’t want to snap the heel, but trust me. It’ll look more natural and hopefully feel more natural too.”

John nodded and tried to take Eliza’s advice to heart, stepping slowly but doing the motion she suggested. It took him a few steps to figure out how to shift his weight correctly so he was never balancing on the heel and simply waiting until the ball of his foot was on the ground before shifting his weight. It was confusing and he wondered how some people just did it on a regular basis. They were nuts. He smiled though, proud of himself for getting it. Eliza patted the closed toilet lid to get him to sit down, chuckling softly. 

“Good job, now you just need years more of practice before you perfect it,” she teased. “Sit, sit, sit.” John did as he was told and Eliza plugged in the flat iron and checked that the hair dryer was still plugged in from when Peggy used it to tame Alexander’s wet mess of a head. She was about to get started with his hair when Peggy stepped into the bathroom.

“Alright, let me take over,” she said and Eliza gave an playful scoff. “You’ve got the straightest hair in the world, Eliza. John’s hair is closer to mine. Go babysit Alexander, I told him he’s not allowed to come in here until John’s ready to leave.” Eliza didn’t put up much of a fight and soon Peggy was slowly running the flat iron through his hair, using the hair dryer on cool to set it as she went. It didn’t take too long for her to finish up, having loads of experience with doing this to herself on a daily basis. John’s hair was a good two inches longer now that it had been straightened. His foot had been tapping anxiously the entire time she worked.

Alexander was not handling his own nerves well. At this point, he was ready to go. His hair was fine, Peggy had convinced him to put on a nice cologne, and he’d run a lint roller over himself several times to make sure there was no dust. He was running the lint roller over his entire body for the seventh time when Eliza emerged from the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Nervous?” she asked, sitting on the couch as Alexander stood in the middle of the room. He needed the ability to move his body freely and he couldn’t do that sitting down. That and his nerves wouldn’t let him.

“What gave you that idea?” he grumbled with a bit of a huff, looking to Eliza as he ran the lint roller down his chest. 

“The fact that you’re lint rolling a perfectly clean tux,” she said with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance. She knew he had asked a rhetorical question and by responding to him she was egging him on. He set down the lint roller at least and instead started pacing, which wasn’t much better. “Do you want to talk it out? Or just pace?”

“I’m going to fuck this up. Henry Laurens already despises me and I, him,” he said, hands clasped behind his back as he walked back and forth across the room with his eyes on his shoes. “He’s the worst kind of South Carolinian, the racist, bible thumping, homophobic, confederate pride kind. Forget the fact that I’m dating his _son_ , he knows that I’m a bisexual, loud mouthed, anarchist immigrant which is everything he fucking hates and I mean, he’s not anything I like either. This asshole is a lawyer who got fucking rich off the backs of abusing labor laws and buying off officials and he’s just so disgusting. And he has the gall to call me the problem with America? He’s lucky I don’t punch him for that shit, let alone the abuse I know he put John through.”

“Is this a bad time?” John’s voice came from the doorway and Alexander’s head snapped up. Eliza looked over and then shifted her gaze to gauge Alexander’s reaction to seeing John all gussied up. 

She was glad she did because Alexander’s ‘holy shit’ speechless look was one she hadn’t seen in awhile and this one was definitely one for the ages. John looked _fantastic_ with his hair all done up in a loose bun with a couple of strands falling to frame his face. Eliza’s handiwork when it came to his makeup was evident and now that his hair was done and he was no longer hiding in the dark bedroom, standing tall and borderline confident it all came together. The floor length dark blue dress was rather conservative when it came to his chest, with long sleeves that were really just floral lace and not much substance so the black shawl he had pulled around his shoulders would be a blessing when it got late and the night got chilly, though the New York air was already biting cold 

“No, I just, John-” Alexander sputtered and John laughed a bit, pulling the shawl a bit tighter around himself.

“It’s fine, you’re frustrated and I totally just took your breath away,” he said with a pleased hum and a smirk, heading over to where his boyfriend was standing with his mouth still agape in the middle of the living room. He pressed a quick kiss to Alexander’s cheek, checking to make sure that the lipstick didn’t come off.

“I used blow job proof lipstick, John,” Eliza said, her hand shooting up in the air to make sure she got his attention. “So you have nothing to worry about.”

Peggy was lucky enough to step out of the bedroom at that point, glad she didn’t miss it as Alexander’s face got a bit pinker, though his complexion made it hard to tell. Instead it was easier to judge how embarrassed he was by his actions which included him shifting from foot to foot and hiding his mouth behind one of his hands while refusing to make any kind of eye contact. That was definitely what Eliza had been going for while John snickered, his cheeks just a bit pink. He was already uncomfortable and genuinely upset about the prospect of tonight and so laughing about anything that wasn’t the dinner that they were about to go to was a welcome distraction.

“Thanks, Eliza. I’ll let you know how it holds up,” he said, offering her a wink which left Alexander groaning and wishing they would just stop this menial torture. “But we gotta get going or we’re going to be late and my dad will throw a fit.”

Eliza agreed and the two Schuylers escorted the couple to Alexander’s car which was parked out on the street out in front of the apartment complex they lived in. It wasn’t anything fancy, but John had at least convinced Alexander to get it washed and waxed for tonight. Alexander had purchased the silver sedan a couple years ago used off of Jefferson for a decent price, which he hated to admit even now. John honestly had no idea why Alexander had even wanted to buy a car seeing as New York was one of the worst places to drive, but he hadn’t said anything and had been grateful on multiple occasions for the vehicle.

John struggled a little climbing into the car, unused to the long dress and the heels more than anything. He buckled up and sat there quietly, trying to get his nerves in order as Alexander started driving. The first half of the drive was quiet, the two men unsure of what the night held for them. John eventually moved his hand towards the center console, resting it there until Alexander reached down and intertwined their fingers. 

“You look amazing, John,” Alexander said softly, eyes not leaving the road.

“So do you,” he mumbled and resisted the urge to run his hand through his neatly done up hair. He couldn’t fuck it up yet, Peggy would be pissed. 

“I wish it could be different…” Alexander started and John let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“There’s nothing that can be done about it right now… It’s alright though, I can find comfort in the fact that I look incredible and so does my boyfriend. We look like an incredible power couple driving a reasonable car to a five star restaurant,” he said with a smile, trying to distract himself from what he was wearing and how he was feeling. 

Alexander chuckled and gave a bit of a nod, focusing on finding a parking spot now that they were relatively close. The did manage to find street parking not too far from the restaurant which was the biggest surprise of the century and they walked arm in arm to meet up with Henry Laurens, who was standing just inside speaking to the hostess about seating.

“Father,” John said, tapping Henry on the shoulder and offering him a small smile when he turned around to face him. “Thank you for inviting Alexander and I out to dinner tonight.”

Henry looked both John and Alexander over, equally critical of their attire. Once he seemed satisfied, he gave them a dry, closed mouth smile along with a nod. “I’m glad that you two could make it and I’m even more pleased that the two of you are dressed appropriately.”

He didn’t say anything else because within moments they were being lead to their table where Alexander needed to remind himself that he had to play the part of the chivalristic boyfriend for appearances. He pulled out John’s chair for him, which earned him a quick kiss to the cheek and a smile (both of which were very much welcomed as a cure to nerves). Henry didn’t say anything as he watched them with cold eyes; John was just glad that he didn’t comment on the slight PDA shared between the two of them.

 

"It's good to see you again, Marge," Henry said while pointedly not looking at John, instead looking over the menu with a look of marginal distaste as if even the five-star restaurant they were at didn't stack up to his standards. John turned his own attention to the menu, quickly deciding on one of the most expensive dishes to purposely dig into his father's wallet out of spite. His boyfriend however was looking at it in awe, so lost as to what would even taste good. "And Alexander," Henry continued. "It's a relief to see you clean up so nicely."

John watched Alexander out of the corner of his eye and saw the flash of anger his father had caused within him. He reached over, under the table of course, to rest his hand on Alexander's thigh as a silent plea for the hot tempered man beside him to hold his tongue. It seemed to work. _Mostly._

"Thank you, sir," Alexander said gruffly, a surprising tone coming from the scrawny Latino boy from the Caribbean. "As someone who got into Columbia Law off the merit of my work from the streets of St. Croix, I like to think that I know better than most that your ability to adapt to your surroundings is beneficial. When at a protest rally on campus, a t-shirt and jeans are fine and expected of your typical social justice obsessed college students. At a nice restaurant with a lawyer who has _allegedly_ managed to get away with modern-day slavery, a tuxedo seems much more appropriate, don't you agree?"

John wanted to punch his boyfriend in his stupid-yet-way-too-intelligent-for-his-own-fucking-good mouth. Had the lawyer truly guilty of what Alexander was accusing him of had been anyone but his father, he probably would have supported him, agreed with him, and probably even let out a whooping holler if the situation called for it. But no. It was Henry Laurens sitting before them, finally looking up from the menu to fixate his cold stare on Alexander now that he had made himself a target. 

He had laid it all on the table, things that Alexander hated about Henry and vice versa so as to inspire a dialogue, John was sure. Alexander was always going on and on about how he wanted to inspire a dialogue because he was sure that in any debate, his verbal dexterity alone would make him the most obvious winner. He could talk for hours about the importance of the Oxford comma, John was sure. 

"I suppose you do have a point," Henry said in a low tone that sent shivers down John's spine. It was a tone that often times forebode a beating when he was younger, something that came with the weight of punishment. He didn't want to hear that tone ever again, especially not directed towards Alexander. "Being a chameleon in this line of work is a great skill to have. Being able to adapt to your clients' needs is extremely important, especially if you're working a high profile case one week and the next you find yourself contesting DUI's."

John was able to see that as a threat, a promise that Henry Laurens had the ability to make or break Alexander's career at any given time especially right now while he was still in school, not even a lawyer. It was likely that Alexander recognized it as well, but John couldn't be certain. Sometimes he just got so caught up in his own whirlwind that John had no idea what to expect. Out of the Hamilton Hurricane came some of the most brilliant pieces of writing and poetry on occasion. Once the man had thought of a way to completely revamp the United States' tax system, though John had no idea how well it would stand up in execution and practice. But the Hamilton Hurricane also left lapses in judgement; articles that were published either in the school paper or online that he hadn't thought through, not eating for forty-eight hours, not sleeping for thirty-four. 

Luckily someone came to take their orders right then, before Alexander had a chance to retort. John even made sure to start the small talk once the menus were taken away and glasses of wine were poured, per Henry's instruction. Alexander was only to have one, maybe two glasses because he was driving home tonight. 

Luckily most of the dinner conversation hadn’t been about politics and instead about John’s siblings. He had prodded for as much information on how they were doing as possible, and it was obvious which children his father was hopeful for and those he didn’t think were living up to their potential.

“Jemmy has the same drive you do, Marge,” Henry said at one point. “He’s young, but I see him going far. Harry on the other hand…”

The question that turned the night from passable to the worst John Laurens had ever experienced was simple, one that he should have been expecting.

“So Marge, have you applied for Montgomery’s internship yet? You know he is extending the deadline to ensure you apply.”

John froze. He needed to figure out a way to break it to his father that he hadn’t, that he didn’t plan on it. He needed to gently let his father down so he could avoid the fallout.

“Oh, I started the application,” he lied with a smile on his face. “I just haven’t had much time in between classes and study to finish it up. I will soon though.” 

Henry nodded, seeming to accept that answer, but Alexander didn’t.

“Montgomery is a defense attorney with a history of turning down clients who desperately needed his aid when they came up just a little short,” Alexander pointed out and John wanted to hide, to be out of here. He knew what Alexander was going to say before he said it, the boy not having any kind of filter, especially not one that would help him now. Henry was frowning.

“He’s a friend of the family, he does what he can do make a decent living and sometimes that means only taking on cases he can afford to,” he said, fist balling up as he moved to rest his chin atop it. “Are you suggesting he should be taking pro bono cases left and right to make him a decent man?”

“No,” Alexander said. It was obvious that he was getting riled up. It didn’t take much to set Alexander off and this whole dinner had been a ticking time bomb in terms of when this flood was going to happen. “I’m suggesting he not leave clients mid-consult, mid-case when he realizes they won’t be able to pay him his costs upfront. He has tenure after all, he’s not in danger of losing a large amount of his income. I’m suggesting he not mock public defenders for defending those who need it most. I’d even go as far to suggest he stop using the gay and trans panic defenses in court because they are the saddest excuses I have ever heard.”

Henry shifted, hands moving to rest on the table before him. Carefully folded. “The panic defense wouldn’t be necessary if young people across this country would open their eyes to the reality that is the one man, one woman philosophy that the bible outlines and Jesus preaches. And when boys stop trying to pretend they’re girls in order to abuse them, I will reconsider my stance on the transexual panic defense.”

His voice never changed inflection, staying even and cold the whole time he talked. It made John sick to hear how his father referred to the LGBT community, but he couldn’t say anything. He relied too heavily on not only his father’s money for school, but his approval as well. He couldn’t try to break up this argument either as Alexander would rip him a new one, something about not letting him fight his own fights.

“Are you suggesting trans women are the problem here, sir?” Alexander said, scoffing in surprise. “I beg to differ. Statistics show that there has never been an incident where what you’re suggesting has occurred. The trans panic cases that are out there are not ones that involve trans women and men forcing themselves on others, they’re cases of people who have attacked their closeted trans partners because they supposedly lied to them and thus feel as though they have the right to attack them and in many cases across the country, murder them.”

“Perhaps they deserve it, for being abominations,” Henry said flatly, looking indifferent, but John knew it was more than that. He was calculating, planning. John was inevitably going to suffer for Alexander’s missteps and he knew it.

“They deserved to die? For trying to live as their authentic selves?” Alexander sputtered in disbelief. Was this guy for real? Did he really think so poorly of these _human beings_ that he thought they deserved to suffer at the hands of loved ones and strangers? That they deserved to be shown the most disrespect by being dead named in the press and likely on their headstones when they were put six feet under. “Sir, I beg your pardon, but the loss of life is not one I take lightly. The loss of transgender lives is not one I take lightly, and neither should you.”

He was trying, desperately trying not to say those damning words, but they wanted to come out.

“And why should I care? I know no such abominations and if I did, I would likely not know them for much longer.”

That was what did it. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

Alexander _laughed_ , he laughed! A long, loud guffaw coming from his lips. “You don’t know such an ‘abomination’? Try looking across the table at your _son_ for once, Henry. Your son _John_ whom I have been dating for six months now and you won’t acknowledge it. Your son who does everything he can to win your approval even if it means turning down his dream of being a doctor or a marine biologist. You’re poisoning your very son’s mind with abuse and hurtful words.”

Henry looked to John, who wanted to tell him Alexander was lying, that it wasn’t true. That he was good ol’ reliable Margie just like when he was a kid, but he couldn’t. His heart was aching, from betrayal and the soon to come abandonment. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Panic was welling up inside of him. For once in his life he wished he had the strength to fight this battle, but it was his _father_ , the man he had been terrified of since the age of six when Henry had first hit him.

“If that is the case, then I have no daughter, let alone a son.”

With that, Henry got to his feet and went to pay the check before walking out of the restaurant without a backwards glance to John and Alexander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And of course I stop it before Alexander and John have a chance to talk it out (and get into their own fight lmao).
> 
> Anyway, hmu on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com) or my Hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Let me know if there are any glaring typos or mistakes. Feel free to ask me questions about characterization on my tumblr or on here. I love talking about this shit okay.


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John cries a lot and Alexander doesn't know how to say sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fight I've been excited to write, yay!! Plus a shift in perspective (which I've been doing a lot I've realized sorry). 
> 
> Everyone knows Lafayette is the best to call when you're panicking and cold, obviously.
> 
> TWs are just sort of general mentions of transphobia and outting.

"I can't believe you did that to me."

John was the one who broke the silence that had been hanging in the air ever since his father had left the restaurant. He was standing on the curb outside in the cold New York night, freezing his ass off in a dress that made him hate his entire being and existence with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The black shawl was pulled tightly around his arms. 

"I couldn't take what he was saying, I had to say something," Alexander said, immediately getting defensive. John knew pushing him would only cause his walls to go up higher, but he was angry and sad and disappointed and just about every other emotion in the book. He couldn't think clearly, just wanting to yell and yell about how hurt he was and how much pain Alexander was putting him through. So he pushed, he pushed against the defensive walls that Alexander was putting up.

"So you out me to my father? A man who had literally just called transgender people abominations and suggested that those subject to violent transphobia and even more often violent transmisogyny deserved to die? What were you expecting to happen, Alexander! For him to go 'Oh shoot! I've made a mistake! My son, come to me!' and suddenly, poof! He's no longer a transphobic dick?" John yelled at his boyfriend, the anger evident in every syllable. He was shaking, from anger or the cold he couldn't say. "It was idiotic and not your place to do that to me."

Alexander was shocked by the amount of venom in his boyfriend's voice. He had heard it before, at a Black Lives Matter rally on campus that was interrupted by several white dicks who chanted 'All Lives Matter' at the demonstrators and a handful of other similar occasions, but not like this. Not towards him. He had to take a breath before trying to find the words to respond. 

"Look, you know how my mind works, how my mouth is simply along for the ride," he said, moving to take his jacket off. His boyfriend was standing there in a weak dress violently shivering, he needed to do something. "I didn't even realize I had said it until the damage was done and then you just can't take that stuff back. I knew this dinner was a bad idea." He moved to wrap the jacket around John's shoulders.

He pushed Alexander away. "Don't touch me," he spat. "You have no right to fucking touch me right now. You can't even say I'm sorry? You have ruined my life in a three hour window and your first reaction isn't to apologize. It's to _defend_ yourself. I can't believe I'm dating you right now. I can't believe I _love_ you. Go home, Alexander. Don't wait up." He turned around, walking away from the restaurant and away from Alexander who stood there for a long moment, shocked by what had just happened.

It wasn't until John was about a hundred feet away that he managed to do the decent thing and shout, "I'm sorry!" at his fleeting figure. Alexander climbed into his car and quickly turned on the heat, watching John for as long as he could before the other disappeared into the night. He was worried, fucking terrified that John was going to end up hurt or lost or god knows what by morning, but he couldn't go after him. That's what John had asked of him and after a night like tonight, he could at very least respect that much.

* * *

"Slow down, slow down, mon ami. You are speaking too quickly, I cannot understand."

"Pier 94, I'm at Pier 94. Laf, please come get me." There was a cracking sob through the phone line.

"Herc and I will be there in moments, mon cher. Is Alex with you?"

"No."

Lafayette thought it wise not to question him much further after that and instead dragged Hercules to help him on the rescue mission. He didn't know much, having missed nearly everything that John had said when he was explaining it over the phone to him mostly due to the sobs coming from the other, but it had to have been because of dinner with his father which was why it was worrying that Alexander wasn't with him.

Hercules drove and Lafayette was quick to text Eliza, knowing that she would be the most likely to get through to Alexander should he be in a similar state of distress as John was.

__**To Eliza Schuyler:** herc and i are picking up john from pier 94  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** i think something happened at dinner  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** pls check on mon petit lion he’s not with john 

__**From Eliza Schuyler:** I’ll see if I can get ahold of him and keep you updated.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** Thanks for keeping me in the loop, I’ll tell Peggy.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** Tell John I love him by the way. 

_**To Eliza Schuyler:** will do mon ami_

It didn’t take long for them to get there and Lafayette hopped out of the car as Hercules went to find decent parking. For a second, he was worried that he had misheard John, gotten his location wrong somehow, but then he spotted his friend in a long blue evening dress and flimsy shawl, his hair hanging low and thoroughly messed up. Peggy would be more than a little disappointed that her handiwork was reduced to this. He was leaning against the railing overlooking the Hudson, eyes unfocused and hot with tears.

Lafayette came up next to him, leaning against the railing in a similar manner. “Herc is looking for parking,” he said softly, watching John for his reaction. When he glanced his way, Lafayette offered him a soft smile before moving to rest a hand on his shoulder. “You look like you’re frozen, mon ami. Here.” He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around John’s shoulders as he sniffled.

“You’re about to be freezing too,” he muttered, a slight hiccup in his voice. The sobs seemed to have subsided since earlier and he was no longer in a panic, just sad and tired. Lafayette gave a slight chuckle, hoping to put John at ease.

“We shall be heading out here soon enough,” he murmured and rubbed at his arms a little absentmindedly, the long sleeved shirt he was wearing didn’t fight the cold the way the grey peacoat he had wrapped around John did, but it was better than sleeves of John’s dress. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he was quick to check it.

_**From Hercules Mulligan:** no luck with parking, i’ll swing by where i dropped you.  
**From Hercules Mulligan:** i’ll be there in five minutes give or take, be ready._

_**To Hercules Mulligan:** d’accord !!!_

He was about to put his phone away and get John moving towards where Hercules was going to be picking them up when his phone buzzed again, this time it was Eliza.

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** I’m with Alexander at his apartment. He’s a mess, but at least he’s able to form coherent thoughts. If John asks, he’s fine.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** How’s John?_

__**To Eliza Schuyler:** ah john is currently crying his eyes out at pier 94  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** do not fret tho because i am with him and ill take him to my place.  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** he hasnt said what happened yet but i do not think he wishes to see alexander right now. 

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Understandable. Alexander won’t say what happened either.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** Let me know when you know?_

_**To Eliza Schuyler:** oui will do_

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and looked to John, surprised to see him staring at him. He offered him a smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, keeping John close for a long moment before speaking.

“It is a gorgeous night,” he murmured and pressed a chaste kiss to John’s cheek. His makeup was smudged, half of the foundation seemed to have been rubbed off and his freckles were visible under smears of eyeliner. He looked like a mess. “Beautiful but very cold. Herc is bringing the car around, let’s go.”

John nodded and the two of them walked towards the street. There was no sign of Hercules’ waiting car when they came to the spot where Lafayette had hopped out and so the frenchman simply pulled his friend into a tight hug. “It’s a cold night, mon cher,” he murmured when he felt John tense up in his arms. “I might as well hold you until Herc gets here to keep you warm and safe.”

John chuckled softly and gave a nod, burying his face into Lafayette’s chest as they stood there in the cold night air. His shivers started to subside and Lafayette did his best to hide his own involuntary shakes. Having a warm body up against him helped though and so they weren't too bad on their own. Absentmindedly, he went to work with the fingers of one hand in John's hair, trying to undo the mess that hastily trying to rip out the bun had done.

Hercules was there soon enough and Lafayette lead John to the car, getting into the back seat with him so he wouldn't feel excluded or alone. Herc didn't say anything about it and was soon driving towards the apartment he and Laf shared. 

"Mon ami, feel free to lie down if it will help you relax," Lafayette said softly. John took him up on the offer and loosely buckled the seat belt over his lap before kicking off the heels and curling up in the back seat with his head resting on Lafayette's lap. His eyes shut as Lafayette adjusted the jacket on top of John and ran his fingers through his hair. The car ride was quiet as they headed to the warmth of the apartment complex. 

"Ah, mon ange cheri," Laf whispered to the near sleeping boy in his lap. "We are here, let us get you inside and out of this dress." He didn't want to bring up the idea of talking about what happened tonight to John again, hoping he would bring it up on his own. Laf managed to get the groggy John out of the car, Hercules grabbing the heels left in the back seat. It didn't take long for them to get inside so they didn't force John to put on the shoes to go inside the building. 

They were quiet, Lafayette's arm wrapped around John's shoulders as they headed to the apartment. Once inside, Hercules immediately went to grab a tshirt and sweats for John while Lafayette took him to the bathroom to start getting him out of the dress. He let Lafayette pull the shawl and coat away, even though he was still very much freezing, but refused to take the dress off all the way until he had clothes to replace them. Luckily Hercules came with the clothes in hand. In no time at all John was nearly drowning in his friend’s large tshirt and sweats.

“Oh, mon cher,” Lafayette murmured, looking John over. “Let us clean off the makeup that is all over your face before sending you to bed. We can talk about where you will sleep afterwards.” John gave a nod and Lafayette had him sit down on the closed toilet seat while Hercules took the dress out of the bathroom, hanging it up with car. He couldn’t let such a beautiful gown get ruined after all.

Things were quiet in the apartment as Lafayette worked on cleaning up John’s face, offering the boy a smile as he wiped away the layers of makeup. He had resigned that he would likely learn about what had happened between Alexander and John at dinner tomorrow which was why he was surprised when John spoke up as he was working on removing the eye shadow.

“Alexander… The reason that I’m here instead of at home is because… He outted me. My dad… My dad knows I’m trans because of Alexander’s big mouth and he couldn’t even say the words ‘I’m sorry’ until I sort of… pushed him to. God I’m so fucked,” John said, his voice barely above a whisper. Lafayette slowly pulled the makeup wipe away from his face. 

“Oh, _John_ ,” he whispered and the tears from earlier were back in John’s eyes. He was trying to hold himself together as best as he could, wishing he could just be angry at Alexander instead of hurt and upset. Anger was a feeling that he could handle, could get out by punching things or people, but this hurt, this betrayal… It didn’t quite work like that. It ripped him raw.

Lafayette moved and quickly wiped away John’s tears and the remaining makeup. “Here, let us go sit on the couch, oui? I shall turn on a movie and you can try and relax. We shall figure out what to do in the morning,” he said and John gave a nod, getting to his feet and wiping his own eyes this time. It was a relief to be out of that dress and free from the makeup. Before stepping out of the bathroom, Lafayette grabbed a hairbrush. 

The two of them quickly settled comfortably on the couch, similarly to how they’d been curled together on the car ride over. Lafayette flipped through the options Netflix had to offer and eventually turned on a documentary on sea turtles. Turtles and drawing seemed to be John’s silent passions that he never really told his friends about, they just kind of guessed. It was nice to have them indulge him though.

Lafayette gently worked to brush John’s hair as he watched the documentary, Hercules eventually joining them, sitting at John’s feet and letting his legs drape across his lap. His hands rested gently on his calves and absentmindedly rubbed designs into them. The gentle touches and assurances that he wasn’t alone soon lulled John to sleep. Once Lafayette was certain he was asleep, he and Hercules were careful about pulling away and replacing Lafayette’s lap with a pillow. The turned off the tv and laid a blanket over him before going into the other room. 

“Alexander outted him to his father,” Lafayette murmured softly, as if scared his voice would wake John up in the living room.

“God fucking damn it.” was all Hercules could seem to say and the two of them allowed themselves to turn in soon enough, not needing to stay up anymore than John did.

As Lafayette was changing into more bed appropriate clothes, his phone buzzed; Eliza.

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** Alexander is finally asleep.  
**From Eliza Schuyler:** He didn’t tell me what happened though._

_**To Eliza Schuyler:** he outted john to his papa.  
**To Eliza Schuyler:** henry laurens knows john is trans._

_**From Eliza Schuyler:** God fucking damn it._

Lafayette didn’t feel the need to respond past that and he quickly popped his head out to check on John who was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. All bases covered and everyone now in the know, Laf finally allowed himself some much deserved sleep.

He’d deal with Alexander in the morning if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the French may be wrong or butchered and I am so very sorry for that.
> 
> Send me feedback about any mistakes I've made or just something you wanna tell me about the fic!!
> 
> Hmu on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my Hamilton sideblog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/).


	7. (No) Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John cries and Alexander doesn't know how to say sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter are panic attacks, light violence (one slap), and Alexander not knowing how to apologize I swear to god.

Waking up was disorientating for John. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be; instead of curled up with Alexander in their bed he was lying on the couch in clothes that hardly fit him. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes crusty with sleep and dried tears. It was then that the night before hit him, what Alexander had done and what that meant for him. He froze as it settled in, his father had likely disowned him by now, at very least taken him out of the will and was in the process of freezing all his accounts. It wouldn’t be possible to talk to his siblings now, either his phone would be completely disconnected or his number blocked. What was going to happen with school? Was he going to have to drop out?

The panic came fast, as was its nature. He clung to his knees as his breathing quickened, his heart pounding. His chest ached and he did everything possible to stay as small as possible, to keep every body part within eye sight and reach to ensure they didn’t disappear in the void that he felt was going to swallow him whole. His focus was on nothing more than his hands, clinging desperately to the oversized sweat pants as they shook. It was as if the whole world was falling away around him, ceasing to exist. 

The only thing bringing him back to the present was a hand placed gently on his shoulder that slowly turned into someone’s arms around him. There was a voice speaking somewhere in the background of his thoughts, but he couldn’t make out the words. He could just focus on the feeling of warm arms around him. Gradually, the outside voice started to make sense and he realized that he was in the arms of Hercules who was sitting there quietly murmuring how he was okay and safe and loved. 

It took another couple of minutes to bring his panic down low enough that he could even feel like talking was an option and a couple of minutes after that to find the right words to say. “Sorry,” is the only thing that seems appropriate. 

Hercules immediately quiets him and a slight banging noise could be heard from the kitchen followed by a "merde!" They ignored it and Hercules moved to rub gently at John's shoulders to remind him he's here and he's safe. "Do you want to talk about it at all?" he offered.

He didn't, he really didn't want to. But he also knew that he should, that talking to his friends about it would ideally help. "My dad... He's going to disown me. No more support, no more money, no more school, no more-" His voice caught in his throat, nearing a sob. "N-No more talking to Martha and Harry and Jemmy and Mary Eleanor. I... I'm going to lose everything that... That has ever mattered to me. My family, the... The ability to go home." Hot tears ran down his cheeks and he took in a deep shaking breath as Hercules held him closer.

"What's important about going home?" Hercules asked softly and John took in a deep breath.

"My... My mom," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "There's pictures of her hidden in my childhood bedroom. If my dad sees them... He'll take them or throw them away. I don't remember much about her... But I can't lose her completely if I'm losing the rest of my family." A hiccup bubbled up and another broken sob came from Laurens' mouth. It was embarrassing.

"I can't promise anything when it comes to your father and what he'll do," Hercules said, trying to sound sure and confident of himself. He was going to be John's rock as his life inevitably fell apart around him, him and Laf would do it. "But I can promise that Lafayette and I will love you unconditionally and support you through all of this."

That seemed to work and John took in a deep breath. The smell of something delicious being cooked wafted into the room from Laf being on breakfast duty. Hercules managed to get John to the counter and in a bar stool and the two of them waited as he finished whatever he was making.

"Crepes," he said with a grin and Herc rolled his eyes. "I am not fond of the stereotype that all the French eat is crepes-"

"You're not doing much to help that stereotype," Herc pointed out and Lafayette pointed a very serious finger at him.

"I make very good crepes," he said, feigning hurt over the comment. The gentle banter between the two of them was enough to put John at relative ease, still shaken up after his panic attack but able to think clearly at this point.

Their gentle banter continued and John found himself sort of checking out, his mind elsewhere as their words became background noise. He didn’t even realize they’d spoken to him until Lafayette placed a plate in front of him, a small stack of crepes covered in whipped cream and strawberries. Lafayette looked at him expectantly, obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“Thanks, looks good,” John mumbled, picking up a fork and starting to eat. Apparently that wasn’t the response that Lafayette was looking for.

“Ah, mon ami,” Lafayette sighed and Hercules chuckled slightly, digging into his own breakfast. “I was saying that this is a bastardization of real crepes and to forgive me because I had to make due with what I had.” Lafayette gave Herc a glare, firmly placing the blame on him. “I also asked what you wished to drink.”

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled and sat up a bit after finishing off a bite. “I uh, iced tea is ideal, but water if you don’t have it.” Lafayette nodded and was quick to get John a glass of water before writing something on a pad of paper attached to the fridge; probably a shopping list. 

A comfortable silence falls over breakfast as the three of them eat, no one wanting to mention Alexander or the night before.

* * *

“Five more minutes...”

“I did not just spend the night on your couch in boiling anger for you to tell me _five more minutes._ Hamilton, I swear to God, it’s time to get up.”

Eliza stood over Alexander who was curled up in the large bed he normally shared with John by himself. On his own, he was engulfed in the duvet and the sheets, white drowning out the man’s dark hair and brown skin. He looked so small within the confines of the bed, small and utterly alone.

That didn’t make Eliza any less upset with him though.

“What?” Alexander mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes at her. “What did I do?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she said flatly and it started to dawn on him, what she was talking about. His eyes went a bit wide with panic and she knew that he understood.

“Are you talking about…” he trailed off, not wanting to say his crimes aloud. It was painful and why he was in bed alone, John gone. 

“Yes, I’m talking about you _outing John to his father_.”

“Yeah, that,” Alexander mumbled lamely and Eliza’s cold glare reminded him of why he had befriended her in the first place: he didn’t want to be on Eliza’s bad side and therefore on the receiving end of that glare.

Which he now was. He was also on John’s bad side. And probably Lafayette and Hercules’ as well. Maybe Angelica’s if he was _really lucky_.

He was probably that lucky.

“Alex, do you understand the danger you’ve put John in? He wore a dress and lied to his father about who he was _for a reason_. He’s lost his siblings due to your actions, that’s a given. He’ll likely not be able to talk to them for years now and you know how much he loves all of them. You’ve seen him interact with them, you must know how much this alone is _killing_ him,” she said, getting dangerously close to the bed. Alexander was almost certain she was about to slap him, which he figured he totally deserved honestly. He backed up, his back soon flush with the headboard in an attempt to get out of Eliza’s reach. He didn’t put it past her to actually hit him.

“He shouldn’t have to lie to his father, his father should be a decent human being. Same thing with his siblings. They love him as much as he loves them, they’ll probably reach out to him eventually,” he said, defensive walls flying straight up. He may have understood where Eliza was coming from, but that didn’t stop him from desperately needing to defend himself. It was about self-preservation at this point. 

“Alexander Hamilton,” Eliza said, crossing her arms as she glared at him. “How dare you shrug what you’ve done. You’ve put John in extreme amounts of danger, his father can easily cut him off and he will have no money to his name or a way to pay for law school. Do you understand what you’ve done by telling John’s father he’s trans? Have you thought about this at all?”

“No, I obviously haven’t,” Alexander snapped, sarcasm laced in his voice. “I was too busy watching him walk the fuck away from me like a lovesick loser last night.”

“Do not take that tone with me,” she said, clenching her fists. “You do not get to act all high and mighty after what you did. You have no right to act like I am wronging you by calling you out. You have single-handedly ruined John’s immediate future and relationship with his family and you are _lucky_ it is me here yelling at you and not Lafayette.”

She was right, she usually was after all. Lafayette would have torn him a new one without any of the kindness Eliza was showing him. At first glance, it wasn’t a lot, but knowing Lafayette… He would rather have Eliza.

“What’s done is done,” Alex eventually mumbled and that really set Eliza off. 

That was when she slapped him.

It stung, she’d hit him hard. Open palm to his left cheek. It made a loud clapping noise, but Alexander had managed to keep his cry of pain to a minimum. He reached up to press against the angry spot of skin on his face, surprised by the action. He shouldn’t have been surprised though. He’d been being a dick and he recognized that, but his pride wouldn’t let him give in.

“Call John and apologize at the very least, Alexander. That’s the decent first step to take.”

And with that Eliza left, storming out of the apartment and slamming the door behind her.

* * *

The ringback tone was deafening. It rang loud and clear, sending a message to Alexander that John didn’t want to talk to him. That he was purposefully ignoring his phone call because he didn’t want to talk, that he was absolute scum for-

John picked up.

“ _Alexander._ ”

Oh to hear his voice. It was cold and flat, but it was _John_. John’s voice, broken up slightly by the slight static that came with the phone call, but his voice nonetheless.

“John, I-”

“ _Fuck you._ ”

Those weren’t the words he wanted to hear. That wasn’t what he had called for. He had called because Eliza was right, apologizing was a good idea. But if John wouldn’t let him? If John denied his attempts at retribution? What was the point? He wasn’t known for groveling or giving in, why would John be any different?

“You brought me into a situation where I was uncomfortable and expected me to be able to perform under pressure and to go against respecting you and your identity for the comfort of your capitalist pig of a father. You should have known better than to expect me to do anything less than what I did.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Alexander was full of regret, but words couldn’t be taken back, he knew this all too well. He wasn’t going to show his hand. He wasn’t going to allow the advantage to be taken from him. Apologizing, showing remorse, were signs of weakness. He couldn’t afford that.

“ _I thought I could trust you._ ”

John’s voice was small. A fraction of what Alexander was used to. He sounded scared, terrified of what was going to happen next. 

_Click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr @ [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/).
> 
> comment or send me a message to boost my ego B)


	8. Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander just keeps calling and John doesn't pick up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: references to child abuse, dead naming, references to suicidal thoughts, references to past self harm
> 
> Nothing but the dead naming happens in the chapter, but the child abuse references are pretty strong and while vague, more than I intended to write.

_Ring._  
        Nope.  
                  _Ring._  
                         Nope.  
                                   _Ring._  
                                         Nope. 

Caller ID told John it was Alexander, his now former boyfriend, calling for the third time that night. They hadn’t spoken for a week despite Alexander’s nightly calls and John had been avoiding the couple of classes they shared altogether. Hell, he’d already figured that this was the last semester of law school he could afford, period. _It’s okay though_ , he told himself, _I would have made a shit lawyer anyway_.

“Hamilton?” Hercules asked, gesturing towards John’s buzzing phone on the arm of the couch. The two of them were watching a movie, _Finding Nemo_ as per John’s request, while Lafayette was out doing something with someone, they hadn’t bothered to ask for specifics and he hadn’t been anxious to provide them.

“Yeah,” John mumbled, declining the call. He didn’t want to deal with this, didn’t deserve to deal with this. Why couldn’t Alexander leave him alone? He had given him the benefit of the doubt when he had called the first time and it had screwed him over. He had had the _nerve_ to blame John for the fact that he had outed him, as if Alexander couldn’t be blamed for his big old mouth. John wanted to punch him, to honest to God do a solid number on his ex’s face, to give him a black eye and split his lip that he always loved to kiss…

 _No, you have to be angry at him,_ he told himself. _Forgiving him will just fuck you over._

That’s what Eliza had been telling him along with the other Schuyler sisters, Lafayette, and Hercules. None of them wanted to see him give Alexander the second chance he honestly didn’t deserve at this point and end up in this situation all over again.

But it was hard, to not want to go back. He missed sleeping beside Alexander. Missed the way his fingers felt in his hair. Missed the lazy kisses in the morning and the way Alexander’s palm felt pressed against his hip when he stood in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Missed the way that his hot breath would dance across his skin and send shivers down his spine. Missed the gentle touches and the quiet encouragements when he needed them most,

He missed feeling so completely and unabashedly loved.

Maybe that was why he answered his phone when it started ringing once again, assuming it was Alexander with some half assed apology or the like. He’d been calling him over and over again, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that it was Alex. That was why he answered it quickly and angrily.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

Except that it wasn’t Alexander on the other end of the line.

“ _Marge._ ”

_Holyfuckingshit._

“Father, I- I didn’t realize,” he stuttered which had Hercules frowning beside him, pausing the movie.

“ _No matter,_ ” Henry said, effectively cutting off John. His voice was flat, not a trace of anger, and John was _terrified_. His father was a ruthless man, in court and at home. He would do anything for his clients which (allegedly) included forging documents, fabricating witness testimony (expert and otherwise), and throwing anyone he could under the bus. And it was a big bus. At home, he wasn't much better. Affection was something he starved his children of from a young age, and ever since their mother died, it only got worse. " _We have a lot to talk about, Marge._ "

He was doing this to hurt him, enunciating his name like that.

"I wasn't aware we were speaking," John said flatly as he shrugged off Herc's hands that had settled on his shoulders. He couldn't do this around Hercules, couldn't subject him to the emotions that his father was going to put him through. Getting up, he waved away Hercules' worried look before walking to the bathroom. He could lock the door and if the temptation to drown persisted, who was he to deny that?

" _We're not,_ " Henry said with a pleased hum. It was sadistic, John was sure of it as he locked the bathroom door behind him. He set his phone down on the counter, putting his father on speaker phone so his hands could shake in peace. " _In fact, if you follow my instructions, this should be the second to last time we speak._ "

Second to last time? John didn't want this conversation to be happening period and to know that his father was planning a second one? He didn't want to deal with that, nope. 

"What do you want?" he asked with a huff, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was a god forsaken mess and he hadn't been wearing a binder for the past week because like hell he was going to risk running into Alexander at their apartment just to pick up the one piece of clothing that would make him feel at least a little human. Alex would simply make him feel worse.

" _I want to tell you what’s going to happen within this next week,_ ” Henry started and John suppressed the urge to sigh. He was too anxious to try to do anything to antagonize his father. Hell, he was surprised he wasn’t in a full blown panic attack at this point. “ _As a show of my generosity, I would like to invite you back home for one last night. Your plane leaves Friday night and I have already emailed you the information. You are to empty out your bedroom of all you find valuable and the rest will be discarded. You will get to say goodbye to your siblings and have one last meal and night in the house and you will never be permitted to return._ ”

It hit him hard. His father was telling him how he was cutting him off in detail, as if was a simple to do list: go home, clean out room, say goodbye to siblings forever, never come back. 

Before he had a chance to say anything, Henry was talking once again. “ _You are not to tell your siblings about your sinful behavior and you are to tell them you are leaving them by choice. Which you are. I am not forcing you to do anything._ ”

John felt as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him and he sank to his knees in front of the sink, his forehead pressed against the counter as he took in a shaky breath. His father’s words hit harder than any punch he had received in any fight he couldn’t resist starting. hurt more than any split lip or concussion he’d suffered. Cut deeper than he’d ever had the courage to himself. 

“ _Margaret, do you understand?_ ”

“Yes, father,” he whispered, worried for a moment that his voice hadn’t been loud enough to reach the phone’s mic on top of the counter. He was glad he had set it down now that he was clutching the counter for dear life as he felt panic bubbling through his system. The smile in Henry Laurens’ voice was clear when he spoke again.

“ _Now that’s a good girl._ ”

John wanted to scream. Those were the words his father had whispered to him the first time he’d hit John, the first time he had broken one of his bones, the first time he wrapped his hands around his throat and just _squeezed_. His face felt hot and wet and he didn’t even have the time to register when the click happened, telling him that his father had hung up the phone. His sneering, disgusting voice was gone and John didn’t want to ever hear him say those two words to him ever again. They made him feel dirty, disgusting.

_Worthless._

He felt five years old again, breaking a vase while his mother was away. Henry had seen him do it, had just so happened to turn the corner as he bumped into it. He’d been grabbed, dragged to the couch and pinned down while his father screamed in his face, breath reeking of whiskey. That was when it started.

He remembered his ninth birthday party, his mother inside and baking for all the guests when he accidentally pushed another kid, not realizing how fast he was running. Within moments his father had grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, out of site before delivering a harsh beating below the collar of his brand new birthday shirt.

He remembered when his mother died, Mary Eleanor was in his arms when he heard the news. His baby sister was in his arms and all of his siblings were around him. _This one survived,_ he remembered thinking as gazed at her. _She’s a miracle._ Moments later Henry emerged from the hospital room to find the kids gathered in the waiting room where a nurse sat with them, having taken pity on the siblings after they were kicked from the delivery room. He had Mary in his arms, the nurse having said she was healthy and as long as they weren’t gone too long they could hold her before she took her back to the nursery. The nurse took her back sooner than she had intended and all the Laurens’ siblings pretended they didn’t know what was happening to John in the bathroom as they mourned the loss of their mother.

John eventually pulled away from the sink counter and got to his feet, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to ground himself, pull himself back into reality. He couldn’t keep reliving the beatings like he was at this moment and he tried to focus on something. Freckles. He had freckles. That was a good start. He had curly hair, brown curly hair. Was it up or down? Down, but messy. Bedhead messy. What was he wearing? Pajamas kind of. It was yet another pair of Herc’s sweats paired with one of Lafayette’s t-shirts that said something in French, he couldn’t focus on it. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door and John jumped nearly immediately. He took a deep breath and simply moved to unlock it, not wanting to call out and all that jazz. He knew it had to be Hercules, he was the only one home after all.

Which was why it was a surprise to see Lafayette standing there, disheveled and with smeared lipstick down his neck. 

“Herc called me,” he explained. “Said you uh, were freaking out. Had a call from Satan himself. Mon ami, you look terrible.”

John didn’t know what to say, so instead he stared at the make up on his friend’s skin. A brief thought of why it was there crossed his mind before it clicked. “You were with Adrienne… You came home because of me… I interrupted something good, didn’t I?”

His voice was small and Lafayette’s expression softened. “No, mon cher,” he murmured and quickly pulled John into a hug, cradling his head in his hands. “No you simply… Expedited the process. I could not enjoy myself knowing that you were in the bathroom of ma maison crying your heart out. Even if Adrienne’s lips are as addicting as the sweetest American liquor.”

John let out a bit of a laugh, but it didn’t sound anything like one. It was a sob, in all honesty, but John wasn’t about to admit he was crying to anyone, especially not himself. 

“My father,” he whispered. “My father called… I have to go home this weekend, clean out my bedroom and… Say goodbye to my siblings… Tell them that I’m leaving them by choice, that I’m choosing to abandon them and, oh Laf, I can’t do that to them.” A broken sob came his throat and his hands shook as they clutched Lafayette’s shirt. The frenchman just held him tighter. “Mary is seven, Laf. Jemmy is twelve. I can’t, I can’t tell them I don’t love them.”

“Then don’t, mon cher.”

“ _But I have to._ My father will know if I don’t and I…”

He never finished his sentence as he cried into Lafayette’s chest. He couldn’t say when the tears stopped or when they moved from the bathroom to the couch once again, but he could remember falling asleep between his two favorite people at this point in time with _Lilo and Stitch_ playing quietly in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that!! Please comment if you want to boost my ego or tell me where the chapter went wrong (I'm not a big fan of the end but oh well, that's what I get for writing at 1am).
> 
> Hit me up on my tumblrs! My main is [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) and my hamilton blog is [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/). Yay, consistency!


	9. Apartments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's stuff is at the old apartment and Alexander still sucks at apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No major TWs this chapter other than referring to John being outed and bad apologies.

The Latino Student Union’s rally for undocumented students was tomorrow and Alexander knew how excited John had been for it, planning his outfit for it among other things meticulously. It was rather out of character for him to be so concerned with even the slightest details of a protest except for the morning of, but this one was supposed to be a huge campus wide deal and had a lot more push behind it. John couldn’t help but be excited for it, at least that’s what Alexander had thought. 

It was Thursday and he hadn’t heard from John despite his calls. He wasn’t surprised, honestly. Just disappointed. He didn’t deserve to feel hurt by John’s actions, he knew that. He had done too much damage and had been too stubborn about apologizing. He couldn’t even get a hold of him now; now that he’d practiced and even written down pages of an apology just in case he couldn’t say the words that John needed to hear.

He called Hercules instead.

“ _What do you want?_ ” he heard his friend’s voice crackle over the phone line. They hadn’t spoken since the day the dinner went awry. 

“John hasn’t been ho-” He stopped himself from saying ‘home’. “Here. He hasn’t been here since um…”

“ _Since you ruined his life?_ ” Herc offered. 

“Yeah. That. Anyway, he hasn’t been by so he hasn’t had clean clothes or any of his binders and I mean unless you and Laf snuck by to get them, Eliza didn’t take anything when she was here and what I’m trying to say is that that undocumented students rally is tomorrow and he-”

“ _He’s not going._ ”

“What?” Alexander froze, stopped talking and stopped pacing around the living room he used to share with John. He looked to the window, outside at the streetlights. It was dark and that was rather surprising. He couldn’t have been working on his paper for that long, could he? He needed to focus on the issue at hand, fuck. “What do you mean? He’s been excited about this protest since the fucking facebook event showed up on his timeline he can’t just _not_ go, like why? Is it because-”

“ _He’s going home to South Carolina. His father wants him to clean out his room and say goodbye to his siblings. Not that you care,_ ” Hercules told him, an exasperated sigh following his words. Alexander felt his breathing stop. Holy shit. Holyshit. No, this wasn’t the news he wanted to hear, this wasn’t good. The worst part was that it was _totally_ his fucking fault. 

“No, I,” he started, surprised when Hercules didn’t interrupt him. Laf would have, Eliza would have, John would have. Everyone would have immediately shut him down, not allowed him to express this. He was silently grateful that he had called Herc instead of anyone else. “I do care, I just. I fucked up really badly that night and I’ve been consistently fucking it up since.”

“ _You don’t say?_ ” Hercules mumbled, his voice soft. That was a start and Alexander allowed himself to read into it. He told himself that the softness in Herc’s voice meant that he was being heard and that he could potentially be on the road to redemption. 

“I don’t deserve to make excuses for myself, but I’m sorry. Tell John that I am sorry and that he’s allowed to call me at anytime to yell at me, but I can’t make any promises about not yelling back,” Alexander mumbled after a moment and Herc sighed. 

“ _I gotta go, John’s kind of freaking out about packing and going home in general,_ ” he said and Alexander gave a silent nod. It made sense, Hercules had to be there for John because he fucked everything up. 

“Um, hey, before you hang up, I can like pack up some of John’s shit,” he managed, the words hard to get out. “Someone just needs to stop by to pick it up. I don’t want him to go unclothed because he doesn’t want to face me.”

“ _Yeah sounds good,_ ” Hercules said, his mind obviously elsewhere. Alexander heard a muffled voice on the other end of the phone line and Herc responding to it, though he couldn’t pick out the words. He wondered whether it was John or Laf, just distant enough that their existence was plain to see, but… Unobtainable. “ _I’ll try to stop by to get it before John leaves. I gotta go, we’ll be in touch._ ”

And with that the line went dead. 

Alexander sighed and stared at his phone for a long moment before getting to his feet. His papers were everywhere, coating the entire living room coffee table and then some. It was strange, to feel so alone here. He had never known this place without John. John’s the one who gave it life; the furniture came from his dad, the decor was all on John’s dime, even the food they ate was all what John was willing to cook. It felt wrong to be the one still living there when so much of this place wasn’t his.

This apartment was more John’s than his. 

And John wasn’t coming home.

* * *

“Fuck you, I don’t know why you convinced me to come.”

“Because you need to make sure I get the right shit.”

“I could have done that from your apartment, where I was packing, over the phone with you. I don’t need to be here.”

“Suck it up and just stay in the hallway then. You don’t need to even say a word to Hamilton.”

“Fine.”

John leaned against the wall outside of the apartment he used to call home while Hercules knocked on the door. He purposely stared at the wall across the way, then the ceiling and the floor to avoid looking towards the familiar grey paint of what used to be his front door. He didn’t look towards it when he heard Alexander open it and he tried to pretend he didn’t hear the surprised sound that came from his now ex-boyfriend. Though neither one of them had said they were breaking up, John thought that the fact that they weren’t a thing anymore was pretty clear. 

“John-” Alexander started to say, but Hercules simply grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into the apartment. 

“So did you pack it up already or do you need my help doing it?” he asked and Alexander finally tore his eyes off John. 

“Uh sort of. I got a bunch of it dealt with but not all,” he mumbled and lead the way to the bedroom where a duffle bag was sitting on the bed surrounded by clothes, John’s clothes. “Those are his binders and uh those are his jeans and shirts that he wore the most often. His sweatshirts are over here…” He pointed everything out and Hercules folded up what he deemed the most important first before packing them away. 

“Why did he come with you?” he asked after a moment of watching Hercules silently pack up the duffle. Alexander stood at the door frame now, glancing back towards the open front door where he could see part of John standing there in Laf’s hoodie that was far too large on him and a pair of sweats that were too large for him. The shoes, he didn’t recognize. Lafayette probably bought them for him because all he would have had were the heels he wore to dinner. 

“Because I need him to tell me if I’ve gotten all the important things,” he said and Alexander tore his eyes off of John, not wanting to tempt himself into making more mistakes. “It’s kind of hard to do that if he’s at home and can’t see what I’ve got.”

“Why bring him and not Laf? I could do with a good ass-kicking, don’t you think?” he huffed and Hercules chuckled. 

“If Laf came, you’d probably be waking up in the hospital. He’s fucking pissed about this. Hell, he might even be angrier at you than John is and you-”

“I know, I know. I ruined his life.”

The room fell silent as Hercules continued to pack up John’s clothes, pulling more from the dresser when he figured he had the room. He also made sure to grab boxers and socks, which Alexander had forgotten to lay out on the bed along with everything else. Alexander stood by the door, not moving and biting his nails. He was no longer watching John and didn’t see Jefferson’s trademark hair come in between John and the apartment. He only noticed it when he moved to follow Hercules on his way out the door. 

“What are you doing here, Thomas?” Hercules asked, frowning at the taller man as he came to the doorway. John glanced to Hercules, looking more bored than anything at this point and reached his hand out for the duffle which was soon passed his way so he could paw through it to check. 

Turning so he was facing Hercules and Alexander now, Thomas Jefferson was at least a head above the rest of them and his hair just made him seem taller. He had his characteristic wide grin on his face and was definitely not dressed for the cool of early spring in New York, the purple loose tank top looking like it belonged there against his dark skin. 

“Madison lives upstairs,” he said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Everyone’s eyes were on him and his smirk betrayed the fact that he was enjoying the attention. “I was just on my way back home when I ran into John here on my way out. Did you know that he’s been through a messy break up because his ex-boyfriend has a huge mouth that just won’t quit?”

Alexander had to resist the urge punch Jefferson, something he had been doing for quite some time now. 

“Alright, alright,” Jefferson gave in with a sigh and pulled his hands from his pockets to raise them in surrender. “I’m heading on out. Monticello is calling me home.”

He turned to leave, pausing only for a moment to lean in (perhaps a little too close) to whisper to John before disappearing down the flight of stairs at the end of the hall, John’s eyes on his back as he walked away. It wasn’t until Jefferson was out of sight that John soon looked back to the bag in his hands and dug through it.

“The only important things I’m missing are my suits in the closet,” he said, zipping up the duffle and pulling it over his shoulder. He shoved something in his pocket at the same time, a slip of paper, that Alexander pretended not to notice. He didn’t need to obsess over that right now.

“I’ll go grab them,” Hercules said quickly and disappeared into the apartment once again. Alexander didn’t follow, just leaned against the door frame and looked at John who wouldn’t look his way.

“John-” he tried and he watched John’s jaw set. 

“Alexander, I don’t want to talk to you,” John said, his voice surprisingly soft. That killed him, the careful way he spoke just killed him. 

“Then don’t talk to me, just. Just listen for a moment?” he said hopefully as he watched for John’s reaction. When John didn’t say anything, only giving him the tiniest of nods, he continued. “I’m sorry that I outed you to your father. It was stupid and not my place to do so. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry I trivialized it on top of all that as well.”

Things were quiet for a long moment, the only sound coming from Hercules digging through the closet inside the apartment. Alexander held his breath, watching John closely who wouldn’t even look his way.

“And for blaming me? Are you going to apologize for putting the blame on me? For telling me it was _my_ fault _you_ outed me?” came John’s half whispered reply, the words spat out and angry. 

Alexander tried not to take it too personally, but it was an attack. A dig at his already pristine apology. He’d already _basically_ apologized for that too! Just… Not in so many words. ‘Trivialized’ covered that part, right? That was the idea at least. 

“Fine. I’m sorry for that too. Sorry that you couldn’t use your better judgement to realize that bringing me along-” Alexander started, his voice angrier than it probably should have been. He would have kept going and dug himself an even deeper hole, but Hercules’ hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Alexander, if you finish that train of thought I will call Lafayette and he will kick your ass,” he said and Alexander huffed in annoyance crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to deal with this. Not now, not ever. He’d already admitted to fucking up, and now John just wanted him to apologize more? For things that weren’t really his fault? That was stupid.

“Fine,” he muttered and John still wouldn’t look at him. He was standing there, where he’d been standing the whole time leaning against the fucking wall in Lafayette’s large blue hoodie with his hands balled up in fists and the duffle bag over his shoulder. He was leaving, taking his stuff for good at this point. 

It hit him that he was actually losing John.

“Let me grab something real fast,” Alexander said quickly, darting back into the apartment and grabbing the twenty-five page, typed apology that he had written out a couple of days ago when he hadn’t been face to face with John and suddenly angry. He hoped that it was enough, or at least a good start.

“Here,” he said, holding it out for John to take. He didn’t move, didn’t even look towards it. Hercules sighed and grabbed it instead. “It’s a better apology than I could dream of verbalizing so I would appreciate it if you took the time to read it. Maybe when you’re down in South Carolina this weekend.”

That was the wrong way to end that statement because John’s nostrils flared and he tensed, immediately standing up straight. His entire body screamed ‘ _fuck off_ ’ and Alexander wished he hadn’t gone for that low blow. It was stupid and childish to say that, but he couldn’t take it back.

John left without a word, storming out of the apartment complex with Hercules all but running after him. Alexander was about to shut the door, not stupid enough to be surprised by John’s reaction, when Hercules shouted at him. 

“You had better hope that that apology is good enough!”

It probably wasn’t going to be, Alexander knew that. No words he could say, write, or publish would ever be ‘good enough’ for outing John to his father, that was the truth. The only thing he could do to ever dream of redemption would be to grovel at his feet for forgiveness.

And Alexander Hamilton did not grovel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my updates are so inconsistent! It's getting to the end of the quarter and my stress and work load are increasing and sometimes it's hard to get a chapter out! 
> 
> Leave me a comment or bother me on tumblr at [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my Hamilton side blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/).


	10. Southbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John heads home for a brief one night stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter are alcohol as an escape mechanism, mommy issues, and boyfriends that make an effort to stay in your life when you desperately want to cut them out.

LaGuardia Airport was the only reason John Laurens had ever been to Queens. He lived and went to school in Manhattan. Brooklyn had the aquarium. The Bronx had a zoo. Staten Island had a handful of museums he liked. There was no reason for him to go to Queens, he had decided shortly after getting off the plane for the first time. 

All the borough did was remind him of South Carolina. 

It wasn’t in the way the air felt or the food or the people, none of that mattered. It was the suffocating feeling he always felt when exiting the terminal and calling a cab, or Lafayette and Mulligan the past few times he had gone home. There was something about the inherent nature of Queens that just kept reminding him of going home, something he never wanted to do.

Especially today.

He tried to pretend this was a spring break trip, an early one at very least. That he was going home to be with his siblings during the time off school, to hang out with them while their father had work and wouldn’t be home.

That worked for a little while. He managed to check his duffle and get through security, clutching his printed out boarding pass as he was randomly selected and had his hands wiped with a cotton swab. “It’s procedure,” he was told by the TSA agent. “The machine beeps, we test your hands, shove it in that box there, and when the light turns green you get to go on your merry way.” No explosive residue was found on his shaking hands.

Walking towards his gate, John found it harder and harder to deny what was going to happen in the next few hours. His flight home boarded in a little over an hour and he’d be trapped on the plane for two and a half more. He’d have plenty of time to be seated and alone to deal with his thoughts, so why not have a bit of fun beforehand? Airports were practically characterized by their cheap souvenirs and drinks sold at absurdly high prices. He made his way to one of the bars, sliding his ID and card to the bartender, opening up a tab for the short while he’d be there. As a rule of thumb, he was going to have three drinks.

Drinking to ignore the bartender dead naming him and the fact that he was going “home” in about an hour, John got a little overzealous. In the course of an hour drinking by himself at a bar in an airport (now that was a sad sentence) he managed to finish off three beers and about three fruity mixed drinks to keep it interesting. He definitely had way too much to drink given the situation at hand, but he managed to make it to his flight when they announced it was boarding without too much stumbling and a soft smile to the flight attendant. If she noticed that this passenger was definitely not going to be passing any sobriety tests anytime soon, she didn’t say anything and simply showed him to his seat.

Sitting in first class, because Henry Laurens wouldn’t have it any other way, John was offered the slightest shred of peace. No one was seated next to him and the flight attendants didn’t bother him once his seat belt was in place. He watched quietly as the other passengers passed by him, letting the alcohol in his system settle for a moment. Concentrating on remaining still, the rest of his surroundings fell to a low background hum.

He spent the majority of the plane ride home attempting to sober up. He asked for coffee and drank several cups, leaving him only slightly more coherent and having used the bathroom more times than he wished to admit during the two hour flight. It was okay though because he wasn’t too fucked up, or at least that’s what he thought, which was good enough.

Moving through baggage claim on auto-pilot like he had done countless times now, John managed to retrieve his duffle and throw it over his shoulder before heading to the loading zone just outside. The nondescript black SUV there to pick him up was the same one his father always sent, the same driver and the same scratch along the passenger side door that John himself had inflicted while drunk once upon a time. Henry Laurens was one who liked to remind those of their mistakes in the most glaringly obvious ways.

He didn’t say anything to the driver as he climbed into the back seat. They had a bit of a drive to the Laurens estate and John spent the entire time silently regretting the alcohol he had consumed as a way to numb himself to the interactions he had to have with his family. 

He remembered his father’s rules for the conversation he had to have with his siblings. He couldn’t explain the situation, couldn’t push the blame to his father. He was to go home, gather what little he had in terms of things with sentimental value, and say goodbye. To it all. To his childhood home, to the fields, to his siblings. No matter how much he hated his father and everything he stood for, John couldn’t disobey him. He would follow his instructions to the letter.

By the time they arrived at the estate, it was nearly 6pm and John was feeling less buzzed and more anxious than ever before. He knew his father wasn’t going to be home right now and so he just had his siblings to face at the moment. Climbing out of the car, he could see Jemmy waiting at the door.

“Margie!” he shouted and John couldn’t help but smile. Saying goodbye was going to be harder than he thought.

“Hey, Jemmy,” he said as he walked up to the front door, the arm not preoccupied by his duffle wrapping around his younger brother’s shoulder to lead him inside. “Did you miss me?”

“You bet! Dinner’s on the table, I made sure everyone waited for you to come home! Dad said not to but I thought that was bullshit,” Jemmy said with a bit of a grin. He wasn’t supposed to curse and the mischievous sparkle in his eye told John that he knew he wasn’t going to get caught; John wasn’t going to tell on him to his father and neither would the other kids. It was a small act of rebellion that John himself had indulged in once he had left for college.

“Let me put my bag upstairs and then I’ll join you guys, I promise,” John said with a chuckle and pulled Jemmy in close for a quick kiss to his forehead and a tight hug. He was getting tall now, was only about a head shy of John now. If Harry’s height was at all telling for Jemmy, he’d soon surpass John and Martha, who had been about the same height since Martha started her junior year.

With that Jemmy ran off to join the rest of the Laurens kids while John went upstairs to his bedroom. It was a bit strange to be entering the room knowing that this would be the last night he would ever spend in it. It already felt barren with the walls blank and devoid of personality, just how Henry Laurens expected them to be. In the apartment he had shared with Alexander the two of them had covered the walls with rally posters from protests and the occasional poster of some angsty band that they both related to more than they would ever care to admit. This room felt so impersonal. 

He carefully put his bag down on the bed and glanced towards the door. Everyone was downstairs waiting for him to start dinner. He’d have plenty of time to search the room for his nearest and dearest treasures. There were only a few after all.

Taking a deep breath, he headed downstairs to dinner.

* * *

Dinner at the Laurens household with the patriarch hovering over the table was always a loud and rather jovial affair. Jemmy and Mary Eleanor were absolutely thrilled for their oldest sibling to be home, even if it was unexpected and for just the night, while Harry and Martha were pleased but very much confused. John just didn’t have the heart to tell them he’d never be back just yet. Hearing Martha talk about what colleges she was applying to, how Harry had just joined the track team, Jemmy’s new long term substitute, and Mary Eleanor’s new best friend made John refrain from breaking the news, therefore breaking their hearts. It was bittersweet, to have such a wonderful dinner with the lot of them while knowing what tomorrow would hold.

He stayed with them, playing Monopoly in the living room until it was far past Mary Eleanor’s bed time and the housekeeper was insistent on putting everyone to bed. It didn’t matter who even won the game because Jemmy and Harry implemented their own house rules that made no sense to John or Team Marty (Mary Eleanor refused to play on her own so Martha instead had the seven year old sit in her lap while she played). Going back up to his bedroom, John took a bit of a breath. It was time to pack up what he wanted and go through the entirety of his childhood room.

The benefit of growing up privileged and drowned in material objects was that there wasn’t much that was actually sentimental. A lot of what he had growing up was a way to keep him occupied so no one had to deal with him, things to keep him out of trouble. The car that he had left at home when he went to New York for college (because owning a car in New York had been a downright terrifying idea) was simply picked based on a list of features and not a single test drive; there was no father-son bonding that went into picking it out. He could care less if he took home the countless amount of _stuff_ that was present. 

What did matter were the pictures he kept hidden from the housekeepers (though he was sure they knew where he kept them and simply chose not to tell). He moved to the dresser and opened up the small underwear drawer near the top, each pair of delicates neatly rolled and sitting in perfect rows. Reaching to the back of the drawer, he expected to feel the edges of several photographs, but his fingertips found nothing. With a frown, he quickly emptied out the entire drawer by dumping all the underwear out onto the floor only to find one the several photographs he had stashed there. 

His father must have found out about them. 

John had to stop himself from punching the wall in anger. He had made that mistake too many times in his life if he was being honest and about half of them lead to an emergency room visit. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and focus on the one picture he had left.

It was of his mother on the day that he was born, the ink a little faded and his mother looking more than a little exhausted. She was smiling though, at him. At little baby John all swaddled up in pink while she was in her hospital gown. She wasn’t put together, no makeup and hair a mess because that’s what ten hours of labor does to a first time mom. 

John didn’t realize he was crying until the tears fell onto the picture in his hands. This was what he came home for, the memory of his mother. He took a deep breath and collapsed onto the bed, a broken sob falling from his lips as he gripped the picture tighter in his hands. 

He stayed like that for a while, crying and clutching the already tattered picture. This was all he had left of her. He had been in high school when she died and this, this one picture from the day of his birth was all that he had to remember her by. It hurt and the anger burned within him; at her for dying, at his father for attempting to erase her from their memories, at the housekeepers for being the reason that _this_ was the only picture he had of her now.

It was his phone buzzing that pulled his thoughts away from the picture and he quickly moved to tuck it into his duffle, tucked in a book he had no intention of actually reading on the trip. He was surprised when he found a stapled stack of papers before remembering what it was. Part of him entertained the idea of reading it that night in his childhood bed to give the trip a bizarre sense of closure. For the time being he simply set it on his nightstand before checking his phone. 

It was a missed call from a 646 number. _Manhattan_ , John thought as he went to listen to the brief voicemail the caller had left.

_”Ah yes, hello, this is Maria Reynolds calling from the Columbia University Medical Center. Our records show that you are currently listed as a Mr. Alexander Hamilton’s emergency contact and I was hoping to get in contact with you concerning his condition. Please give me a callback at this number at the extension of 328 as soon as you receive this message. If this is a wrong number and you do not happen to be Margaret Laurens, please disregard this message. Thank you and have a nice day.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know jack shit about if that's actually what would happen in this situation, but Hamilton's got no family so. This chapter was also supposed to be longer, but I ended up chopping it into two separate chapters because otherwise this would have gotten way too long for my tastes. Sorry this took so long to post, I've been struggling with hardcore mental fog but I am in no way abandoning this project omg.
> 
> Leave me a comment or hmu at my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my less frequently updated Hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/).


	11. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander is in the hospital and John is emergency contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: dead naming, hospitals, light discussion of injuries

The protest was in full swing by the time Alexander arrived. Columbia’s Latino Student Union (which would likely become the Latinx Student Union in the upcoming months if rumors were to be believed) was actively fighting the school’s administration team about their unfair treatment of undocumented students in admissions and once on campus. Without John there beside him, Alexander felt out of place and almost unwelcome. How such a core part of _him_ had become so heavily linked to John, he didn’t know but he definitely wasn’t a fan. 

It didn’t take long before he was chanting with the crowd and genuinely found himself enjoying the experience and the energy of it all. This was what a protest was supposed to be, supposed to feel like. Rising up to demand change and respect, no matter what the consequences may be. Pepper spray may burn, but that would always fade. Knowing that you stood up for what you believed in when it truly mattered? That stuck with you.

There was no reason for Alexander to dwell on John while he was here, at the protest that John himself had bailed on (for good reason in all honesty, but making it a fault on John’s character would help him through the night). It was hard not to, though. The energy, the chanting, the solidarity; it was all reminiscent of when they had first met sophomore year of undergrad when Alexander had decided that he needed a bit of a hobby other than buckling down to ace all his classes. Why it took him until sophomore year to show up to an on campus protest, he had no idea and still was rather baffled by it, but nonetheless he was glad he had gone. By the time that night was over, he left the protest with three new friends and crushes on two of them.

He left this one stumbling and dazed without ever making it back to his apartment.

* * *

_Fuck Alexander fucking Hamilton and whatever the fuck he did to prompt this fucking call._

John was an amalgamation of anger, fury, and a dash of shame as he sat on his childhood bed, tears still fresh in his eyes as he once again listened to the voicemail left by the poor nurse who didn’t deserve John’s anger he would surely unleash when he called her back.

_”Ah yes, hello, this is Maria Reynolds calling from the Columbia University Medical Center. Our records show that you are currently listed as a Mr. Alexander Hamilton’s emergency contact and I was hoping to get in contact with you concerning his condition. Please give me a callback at this number at the extension of 328 as soon as you receive this message. If this is a wrong number and you do not happen to be Margaret Laurens, please disregard this message. Thank you and have a nice day.”_

Whatever the fuck Alexander had done to land himself in the hospital was beyond him, but it was in no way surprising. Their entire friendship and resulting relationship had often turned into one upping contests, trying to show that they were more reckless than the other. About half the time one of them needed immediate medical attention afterwards.

He spent a long moment gathering his thoughts and calming his breathing. No matter what his feelings towards Alexander were, he was going to at least make sure he wasn’t in critical condition. No matter how much John wanted him to suffer and pay for what he’d done, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Alexander was truly hurt. He picked up his phone and called the Columbia University Medical Center extension 328 back.

 _”Hello, thank you for calling the Columbia University Medical Center’s third floor nurse’s station, this is Maria Reynolds, how can I direct your call?”_ She sounded exasperated, like it was far too late for her to be receiving any calls. John didn’t blame her, he didn’t want to be calling her anyway.

“I was just returning a call I received about Alexander Hamilton. This is Margaret Laurens, his emergency contact,” John said, fighting the urge to say both Alexander’s and his own legal name with contempt. 

_”Oh,”_ came the surprised reply. John could only picture the woman on the other end of the line straightening her shoulders and standing a bit more upright upon the realization that this was her call to take. _”Ah yes, okay. One moment please.”_

“Take all the time you need,” he said with a sigh as he got to his feet. The fact that she wasn’t immediately delivering bad news was promising and thus gave him permission to be mad at Alexander once again as he waited for the verdict.

_”Sorry about that I just needed to pull up his file. I have a couple of security questions I need to go through first.”_

“Not a problem, take all the time you need.”

It took her a couple of minutes to get a hold of the documents she needed and she quickly verified both Alexander’s and John’s birthdays in addition to their listed address and John’s student ID number. The whole process took no more than five minutes and the fact that she didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry continued to lessen John’s concern about Alex’s current state.

 _”Alright, thank you for taking the time to validate those, Ms. Laurens,”_ said the calming voice of the nurse on the other end of the line. _”Now, I wanted to discuss Mr. Hamilton’s condition. Honestly? He’s fine. It looks like he ended up in some kind of scuffle and he arrived here unconscious. As per hospital protocol, we contacted you as you are his listed emergency contact to approve any medical procedures. At this point, we’ve bandaged up his apparent cuts and would like to order an x-ray of his left hand before we do anything else. We can either wait until he wakes up or simply get your go ahead.”_

“So he’s fine? Like he’s not lying there dying because he’s a fucking moron who probably got drunk and too over excited at a protest?”

_”Well, he’s not going to feel good once he wakes up, but he is going to be fine. It doesn’t look like anything serious at this point in time.”_

“Alright,” John said as he let out a sigh of relief. _Thank god he’s not dying,_ he thought to himself as he mulled over the decision he needed to make. He could either give her permission to continue with whatever tests they wanted to do or tell them to fuck off and wait until Alex woke up to consent to it himself. Maybe he could do both… “Are you able to make changes to a patient’s file, such as their emergency contact, over the phone?”

This seemed to throw her off for a second. _”Um, yes. But anything to do with payment and cards on file must be done in person I’m afraid.”_

“Okay well,” he said, giving himself a moment to think about what he was about to do. Cutting himself off from Alexander in all possible ways was the plan after all. “Please remove me from Mr. Hamilton’s file. I no longer wish to be listed as his emergency contact. I authorize whatever procedures you want to get done while he’s resting, but once he wakes up he’s on his own.”

The voice on the other end of the line was quiet for a long while before she realized that she should say something. _“I can do that. I, uh, just need to verify your birthday again and the last four digits of your social security number.”_

After verifying everything, the nurse said good night and apologized for any inconvenience the call may have caused. John sighed, relieved that Alexander was alright and that he was not going to be bothered by a call like that anytime soon. 

The call itself, while a nuisance and a great cause of anxiety, had become a welcome distraction from the crying fit he had been in the middle of before it occurred. John took a moment to collect himself, looking about the room for a moment before pulling a small stuffed turtle out from under the bed that Jemmy had given him ages ago. It was a bit old and tattered by this point, but the sentimental value attached to it was enough to bring him a sense of peace for the time being. Enough of one that allowed him to fall asleep, emotionally exhausted after all that had happened.

One of the housekeepers came by and turned off the lights as their eldest ward fell asleep in his childhood bed for the last time.

* * *

Waking up in a hospital was fairly high up on one Alexander Hamilton’s list of _Things I Hate Doing_ , right under apologizing and groveling, but it had happened enough times that he honestly wasn’t too surprised by it. He didn’t remember much from the night before in terms of how he got there except for a vague recollection of getting knocked a little too hard in the head by something relatively hard and sturdy. It wouldn’t be the first time and he recognized the tell tale signs that he likely had a concussion of some sort; the pounding in his head being the most prominent one.

He didn’t notice the nurse who was checking on him right away, as he was a little disorientated, but she soon made her presence known with a gentle clearing of her throat.

“Mr. Hamilton? Oh, it’s good to see you awake,” she said as she finished scribbling something on a small clipboard she had with her. “My name is Maria Reynolds and I’m the registered nurse assigned to your room for the time being. How do you feel?”

“Like a gong,” he mumbled and it took all of her willpower to not laugh at the comment. It made sense after all, he was suffering from a concussion, but she just had never heard that comparison before. After the long night she had worked, anything remotely out of the ordinary was downright hilarious. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked, having composed herself enough that she was able to ask the question without giggling. The man lying in bed didn’t seem to notice much. She sat herself down in the chair by the bedside, flipping through the notes she had on his condition. “Or rather, what do you remember before waking up here?”

“I was at the LSU rally and I remember leaving and something hitting the back of my head, but that’s it,” he said with a bit of a sigh, rubbing his forehead. He wasn’t attached to any IV’s which was promising, just a heart rate monitor and maybe a couple of others. “To be fair, I wouldn’t put it past me to have gotten myself into a fight or something like that to put me into a situation where someone just whacked me. I talk too much and I’m abrasive.”

Maria wrote some stuff down on her clipboard before looking back at the man lying in the bed. She had to tell him about the change to his emergency contact, but he was unsure about how to bring it up. Maybe telling him when he was concussed wasn’t the best idea, but… She needed another number to call, just in case.

“Well, according to Dr. Hosack, you very likely have a concussion, a sprained wrist, and a couple of over extended fingers on your left hand. Those injuries and the accounts of those who brought you in do confirm that you got into it with an unnamed party after the LSU rally,” she told him before setting the clipboard aside. She was going to have to add what she had scribbled out to his digital file before she left work, but she could put it off for a bit. “We uh, called your emergency contact to approve a couple of x-rays while you were unconscious.”

This got Alexander’s attention rather quickly. “You called John?”

The name confused the poor nurse, but he didn’t make an effort to clarify it for her. “Ah, we uh, got a hold of a Margaret Laurens, she was who was listed on your paperwork. She approved your x-rays, but then asked to be removed from your file as your emergency contact. Do you have anyone else you would like listed? I can give you some time to think it over.”

His heart fell. John had gone out of his way to be removed from his medical records and it was a rather harsh blow. Maybe this really was serious, maybe a ten page apology wasn’t going to magically fix everything like he had hoped it would. Their separation hadn’t felt real and concrete until that moment and it hurt. A lot.

“I need some time to think. Thank you,” he mumbled and Maria Reynolds stepped outside to give him space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little about hospital practices but I mean, at least Alexander didn't rip out any IVs smh.
> 
> Leave me a comment or hmu at my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com) or my less frequently updated Hamilton blog [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com).


	12. Good Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Laurens comes home to a too happy household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone omg it has been so long!!! this chapter is shorter than what i usually pump out, but you guys have been waiting for so long and i didn't want to make this the longest chapter in the world so i split what i had planned for it into two.
> 
> TWs for this chapter: abuse, T-slur, references to childhood abuse, degradation, basically Henry Laurens is a disgusting dickish dad

Henry Laurens was surprisingly absent from the morning hubbub of the Laurens’ household as the Laurens’ children had a rather joyful breakfast. John made pancakes and made sure to teach Mary Eleanor how to tell when they were done and how to flip them. Only three ended up on the floor and inedible, a handful more were just a bit burnt. It was so easy to forget that he would have to leave later and even more, that he would have to explain to his siblings that it was _his_ choice.

It wasn’t a surprise to John when Henry came home ‘unexpectedly’ at lunch time to the children sitting around the kitchen table playing a game of monopoly. Jemmy who had been kneeling on the chair in order to stretch across the table to reach the game board quickly sat back down in his chair and the five kids looked to their father, waiting for some sort of demand or instruction.

“Marge,” he said, the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth was a worrisome sign. “It’s good to see you. A word?” He gestured towards the living room, away from everyone else. The kids knew well enough to avoid eavesdropping and if they did hear anything, to ignore it.

“Of course,” John said and got to his feet, moving Mary Eleanor off of his lap first. None of the children said anything as John and their father stepped out of the room.

“Have you told them?” was all Henry asked as he set down his briefcase and adjusted his shirt cuffs. He kept his eyes on what he was doing, making it very obvious that he was not going to look John’s way. That it was beneath him.

“Not yet,” John admitted and bit his lip. He clenched and unclenched his fists over and over again. It was nerve wracking to be standing before his father after Alexander had outed him and considering the fact that he looked almost pleased with himself, he was probably right to feel that way.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to,” he said, being honest with his father for once in his life. “I don’t want to break their hearts just yet. I wanted to play with them and enjoy my time with them until the last minute, tell them before I go.”

There was a pause and the slight smile flickered into a frown. John tensed slightly, unsure about what his response to the truth would be.

He was almost surprised when his father’s forearm slammed into his neck and forced him back against the wall. He heard his head hit the plaster before he felt it and once he felt it, he couldn’t think too much on it because he was rapidly running out of air to breathe. He clutched at the clothed arm holding him there and desperately tried to relieve the pressure from his neck.

“You are a disgrace to this family,” Henry nearly spat in his face. His arm stayed pressed against John’s windpipe and he had to fight to keep his attention on his father. “Do you know how hard I have worked for you? For all of you? And for you to throw it back in my face like this is inexcusable. Do you understand?”

He stopped pressing down and gave John just enough room so he was able to gasp and catch his breath in order to respond. The right answer was ‘yes, sir’ or ‘I understand, sir’ which was not what John ended up saying. He had been pushed around like this for so long, let his father do this to him for ages upon ages. His father had made decisions for him, forced him in directions he didn’t want to go into. Now he was taking away the most important people in his life. A ‘yes, sir’ didn’t seem to be the right response.

“Go fuck yourself.” is what he said instead, knowing full well what the consequences would be. For a brief moment, he wished that he had perhaps gone to the gym or tried to build up some strength instead of just punching walls in his youth, but it had never been an option with a father like Henry.

The right hook to his jaw hurt like a bitch, but it was strangely satisfying. For once in his life he had talked back to his father and the resulting punch almost felt like he had earned it. He couldn’t help the slight smile on his face as he looked at his father. The man before him who wore a mask of indifference and disinterest was slipping from his carefully crafted image.

Henry gave one more good push with his forearm against John’s neck before pulling away, leaving his son bent over while coughing and gasping for breath. He didn’t have a chance to get much of it back before Henry’s knee connected with his stomach, knocking him off balance enough to be easily thrown to the floor. 

“How dare you speak to me like that,” Henry shouted, his anger getting the better of him. His emotionless facade was breaking down and John had only had to say three words to get him there. Three. After a swift kick to John’s gut, Henry stepped back a moment in an attempt to compose himself. 

John managed to sit up and look up at his father. He had been in this position countless times before; sitting at his father’s feet. He had been here time and time again when his father felt he deserved it, to be made to feel powerless for his own ego and power fantasies.

It wasn’t long before Henry leaned down and grabbed a fistful of John’s hair, wrapping his hand in it and yanking him to his feet. John had to resist the urge to fight back, knowing for a fact that his father was stronger than him and that fighting back with brute force would yield bad results. He had already pushed back with words and now remaining silent would push Henry further and further towards the edge, adding in a physical fight would only bolster his father’s ego in the end.

“You are disgusting, pitiful, no more than dog shit under my shoe,” Henry was ranting as he dragged John across the house towards the living room. The other Laurens’ children knew not to get in the way of whatever it was that their father was doing, scared his anger would be aimed at them. “I have done so much for you and this is how you repay me? By being a Godless abomination?”

He gave John’s head a good shake before leaning down, getting within inches of his face. John could feel his father’s breath against his cheek as he spoke. “You have been nothing but an insolent child your entire life. You’re lucky I have shown you this much compassion.”

With that he threw John to the ground yet again and ripped his hand from his hair. There was a long moment while Henry simply stared and John sat up a bit, gathering his thoughts and adjusting his breathing.

“Is your form of compassion beating me? Knocking me down until I can’t get back up without your help?” he asked and watched to see if his father was about to go in for another round of beating him. Instead he found the stone faced patriarch struggling to keep his emotions (his anger) in check. He decided to press more. “I have been terrified of you for years, horrified that you would find out who I really was and just _hate_ me. Thing is, I don’t think you ever needed a reason to hate me. You just did. Now with all of this, you have an excuse to throw me out. You don’t need to hide it anymore.”

He swallowed thickly and saw how his father was breathing a little more rapidly, his nostrils flaring with anger. He was the most selfish and controlling man John had ever encountered and for once in his life he was _confronting him_. At this point, he had nothing left to lose; he was already set to never see his siblings again and be cut off financially. With those obstacles and fears dealt with, there wasn’t much more his father could take from him.

“Thank god mom died seven years ago,” he said, knowing that he was toeing the line. Pushing the mom issue was the only ‘dirty’ laundry he had on his father that he thought could really get to him. “You must have been a horrific husband. I bet you didn’t even love her.”

That earned him a kick to the chest, one that threw him onto his back and knocked the wind straight out of him. “Shut your disgusting tranny mouth,” Henry spat as he moved his foot to press against John’s throat, pressing just hard enough that he had to gasp for breath and claw at the pristine dress shoe in an attempt to remove it. He had done it though, he had forced his father to snap and lose all sense of control. He had kicked him out of anger and it was just the bare minimum amount of control that stopped him from slamming his foot down hard and actually killing his oldest.

He stood like that for a good minute, John gasping for breath and getting just the bare minimum to keep himself conscious before his father burst out into loud guffaws of laughter.

“Good girl,” he muttered as he lifted his foot and left John lying on the living room floor as he went to his study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM. hope you enjoyed it lmao
> 
> leave me a comment and boost my ego or shoot me an ask on my tumblr princesskane or [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/)
> 
> side note: i have gone back and edited the notes on a handful of chapters


	13. Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farewells in the Laurens' household are commonplace. This one was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter: dead naming, really emotional goodbyes, manipulation, vague references to abuse, and character death

Henry stayed in his study for the next couple of hours which gave John a small amount of down time to spend with his siblings before he had to leave. He had quickly packed up his duffle bag, ensuring that the single picture of his mother that he had found was tucked away safely. He filled the rest of the mostly empty bag he had brought with him with clothes he could still see himself wearing, pictures of his siblings, and some small but arguably valuable things from around the house that no one would probably miss. The bag sat by the door. The driver that would take him to the airport would arrive at two to pick him up and he would fly out of Charleston, back to LaGuardia, about three hours after that.

He kept a close eye on the time, noting that at about quarter to two would probably be the best time to tell his siblings the news before he was shooed out of the house and their lives for good. It was hard to think about and so he tried not to. 

Tried not to carefully pick the words he was going to say and instead enjoy hearing what Martha had to say about what college she was applying to.

Tried not to picture the looks on their faces as he told them and instead laugh at Jemmy’s jokes that were hysterical to him, but in no way stood up to any real sense of humor that John had.

Tried not to think about how empty he would feel without them and instead enjoy the tickle fight with Harry who was trying his hardest to pretend he was much too old and much too cool to be hanging out with his oldest sibling home from college for the weekend.

He tried and failed most of the time.

He kept glancing at the time.

_12:30. 12:36. 12:50. 12:59. 1:03. 1:19. 1:24. 1:33. 1:38._

_**Click.** _

_Knock. Knock._

_Fuck._

He was early. Way early. He wasn’t supposed be there for another twenty-two minutes and here the driver was, knocking on the front door. The other Laurens’ siblings were quick to head towards the front door for goodbyes. They were used to the pattern of the comings and goings of their oldest sibling and John figured it was no different than when any of them had somewhere to be, but he wasn’t around enough to know that. 

John didn’t say anything for a long moment as Martha hugged him and said a quiet good bye and how she would miss him, the other kids patiently waiting for their turn. He let Harry go as well, mumbling something akin to “I’ll miss you too” in response. It was when he had to bend over a bit to hug Jemmy that he lost it. Despite the beating he had taken and the quiet act of rebellion he had shown his father, he wasn’t able to bring himself to disobey him so outwardly.

He pulled back from the hug with Jemmy earlier, which made the middle schooler frown and look at his sibling with confusion. John had never denied a good bye like that before and it definitely hurt him quite a bit.

“I have something I need to tell you guys before I go,” he said, trying not to choke on his words. This was bound to be the hardest thing he would ever have to do. He swallowed hard.

“Well? Get on with it, Marge,” Martha pressed and John realized he had been quiet for a bit longer than anticipated. He took in a deep breath before finding his words.

“I’m leaving.”

“Uh, duh! We know that, silly!” Mary Eleanor said with a laugh, grabbing a hold of John’s hand and swinging it a bit. “That’s why we’re saying good bye!”

He pulled his hand from hers which prompted a frown from the seven year-old and a look of confusion across the others’ faces.

“You don’t understand,” he said, taking yet another deep breath. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to do this, he couldn’t do this to them. It would devastate them all. He wouldn’t get to see Martha graduate, never go to one of Harry’s tack meets, never see Jemmy go to high school, or see Mary Eleanor turn into the bright young woman she surely would become. There was so much he was going to miss and it was breaking his heart.

“I… I have made choices in my life that prevent me from being able to see you guys ever again,” he said, choosing his words carefully. He needed to stick to the script that his father had given him, deviating and telling them the truth of the matter would bring unknown punishment and surely pain down upon him and maybe even then. _Father will need a new punching bag,_ he thought.

“What do you mean?” Jemmy asked as he tried to comprehend what his big ‘sister’ was telling him. “Never ever? That can’t be true!”

John forced himself to nod and tried his best not to stumble over what he was to say next. “The choices I have made that… That mean I c-can’t see you again were just that, ch-choices,” he managed, his voice quivering over a couple of words. “I made them willingly and s-so… I am leaving you all, w-willingly.”

He was trying his best not to cry, but the tears were there. He tried not to look at their faces, but he failed and he could see the heart break on each of their faces; Jemmy’s lost and soon angry expression was killing him. Martha was doing her best to keep a straight face, but it was obviously painful. She didn’t seem to look as angry at him as the other kids; he hoped she understood it was their father’s fault.

“F-Father was kind enough t-to let me have one last visit with you all,” he added, doing his best to push the idea that all of this was their father’s doing. He needed to be careful how he did it, trying to talk him up the best he could in the process. “T-To say good bye. I-I love you all, so much. Th-That’s what makes this so h-hard.”

He was so close to outright sobbing. _I wish I had Alexander,_ a quiet voice in the back of his mind said and it nearly pushed him over the edge. He didn’t need to be thinking about Alexander right now. This was _his_ fault after all.

“I am being incredibly generous,” a voice came from the stairs. All the kids whipped their heads around to see their father standing about halfway up, watching the scene unfold before him with a satisfied smirk on his face. He was _enjoying_ this. Of course he was going to watch this happen, he liked to see John in pain and bending to his will. He was a sick and twisted man. Here were all of his five children, all obviously in emotional turmoil that would very likely scar at very least Jemmy and Mary Eleanor for the rest of their lives, and he was _enjoying_ it. “Do hurry up, you are keeping the car waiting.”

_He must have called it early,_ John thought. _To catch me off guard and inflict more damage, to cause more unrest in the household._ He swallowed and looked to his siblings once more, holding out his arms to Martha for a hug.

For a moment, he thought she’d refuse him, but she was quickly squeezing him tightly and he could feel the quiet sobs wracking her body. “Don’t let him hurt you,” he quickly whispered. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want this.”

She pulled away when Henry cleared his throat, looking at John with a pointed stare and suspicion. 

Harry gave him a huge and he whispered another apology to him, hoping that they would all find it in their hearts to forgive him. If not now, then in years to come. Maybe it would only happen once their father passed away, but it didn’t matter too much to John. He just couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing them again.

Mary Eleanor ran to him before he had a chance to turn to Jemmy for his hug, the girl was in full blown hysterics that Martha would have to quiet down once John left. God it hurt to see them like this. He did his best to soothe her, patting her back and whispering apologies and gentle reassurances that everything would be alright before Henry made his presence known among the children. John didn’t know when he had finished coming down the stairs, but here he was and he was going to force him out before he had a chance to embrace Jemmy, that he knew.

It was the ultimate stab to John’s weakening heart, an incomplete goodbye to the boy that admired him most. _He wouldn’t if he knew the truth,_ the quiet voice whispered and John forced himself to agree with it. It dulled the pain.

“I’m afraid the driver is far enough behind schedule, Margaret. I trust you have gathered everything you need and are ready to depart,” Henry said, making sure to enunciate each syllable in _Margaret_. “It is time for you to leave. It is surely a shame that you are leaving us, but you have obviously made your decision.”

“Yes, father.” The voice didn’t feel like his own. “It appears I have.”

“Then farewell, be off with you.”

John nodded and turned towards the door, grabbing his duffle and throwing it over his shoulder. His driver was standing in the doorway, waiting for his young charge to be ready to go. The dark SUV was waiting at the bottom of the grand steps that lead to the front door. He made sure to walk straight down them, following the driver who opened the side door for him. He tossed in the duffle first and climbed in, trying not to look back at the family he was leaving behind. He would lose it if he did and he couldn’t break down right now, not in front of his father. Henry would win if he did that and he couldn’t-

“Margie!”

He looked up to see Jemmy shoving past their father and racing down the steps of the house. It was nearly a full flight of them so he had a ways to go. The driver shut the car door, ignoring the younger Laurens and his path to the car. He was in the driver’s seat and taking the car out of park by the time Jemmy was about three quarters of the way down. John’s eyes never left the boy who was racing towards him, tears in his eyes. It hurt to see him doing this especially as he started to drive away.

What hurt more was seeing Jemmy trip on his shoelace.

And he tumbled.

All.  
The.  
Way.  
Down.

John stared, eyes wide as Jemmy hit the bottom of the steps and didn’t get up, didn’t even seem to try. He could hear Martha’s scream as they passed the gates of the Laurens property. He turned in his seat in order to see what was happening, _Jemmy wasn’t moving_. Martha had his head in her lap, clutching it close to her chest. Then they turned a corner.

He couldn’t see anymore.

He had no way of knowing if Jemmy was okay.

Had no way to reach out to his siblings.

All ties were cut.

_He was about to be on a flight back to New York knowing full well that there was a possibility that he had just watched his baby brother trip and fall to his death._

Chasing after him.

He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm actually crying while I write this. I can't believe I did this, not only to you guys but to myself as well.   
> I finally start updating this fic and I drag you on this emotional roller coaster.  
> I'm so sorry, but also I'm not.
> 
> Please leave me comments and kudos because I live for the attention. I don't tend to reply to comments but I read every single one and if you have a question, I will try to respond and answer it as long as I have an answer.
> 
> You're more likely to get a response from me if you message me on tumblr, either my personal [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my hamilton one that I dont use a whole lot [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Once again, I never revise and edit because I'm a piece of shit so let me know any mistakes I have made.  
> Also give me a heads up with tags I'm missing (thank you for giving me that one for the last chapter dear Names Don't Matter). I don't know if I should categorize Jemmy's death as major character death so I'm leaving that one up in the air for now.
> 
> So sorry!


	14. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John flies home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: mention of blood, drinking as an escape method, panic attacks, talk of injuries, mentions of death, dead naming

The car ride to the airport was eerily silent. The sight of Jemmy falling down those stairs replayed over and over in John’s mind. He felt nauseous and leaned against the car window, eyes shut tightly. He couldn’t get his mind off of Jemmy and it was tearing him up inside. He didn’t even know how he was going to learn about if his brother was okay or not, none of his siblings or his father would be able to contact him. He made himself as small as possible as he tried to keep himself from having a full blown panic attack.

He nearly fell out of the car as his driver opened the door for him. Mumbling an apology, he grabbed his duffle bag and trudged inside to check in. He had to force himself to move, going through all the actions he was oh so used to. He watched as the airport staff took his duffle bag in order to check it. In a moment of weakness, he asked them to pause a second so he could pull out the thick twenty-five page typed apology Alexander had shoved in his face the last time he saw him. He quietly thanked the airport staff and watched as his duffle was tossed onto the conveyor belt to be taken to the plane.

He tried not to look at the stack of papers in his hand as he worked his way through security. All he had on him was the stapled apology and his wallet, everything else was tucked in the duffle. Having so little on him made it easy to go through the line, no luggage to get searched and just having to kick his shoes off to go through the scanner. He wasn’t wearing a binder which he was grateful for because in the past, the body scanners didn’t like that and so he had to get felt up by TSA agents. A few mumbled thank yous later and he was on his way to his gate.

John needed to get his mind off Jemmy and he wasn’t quite sure how he wanted to do that. He had Alexander’s apology and a credit card. Who knew when exactly the money would dry up from his father, but until it did he was going to abuse it. He went and found himself at one of the bars close to his gate. He didn’t keep track of how many drinks he downed, but at least he was coherent enough to hear the boarding announcement for his flight and get there on time. 

When he was settled into his first class seat, he finally looked to Alexander’s apology with the intention of actually reading it. One would think that an intoxicated human being would be unable to read anything of substance and comprehend it, but both John and Alex had gone through many law reviews and case briefings while inebriated that he wasn’t too concerned about remembering it the day after. He had never gotten black out drunk, something he was forever grateful for.

The first page of the apology was a title page; only Alexander Hamilton would give an _apology_ a title page. Once he flipped past it, he was hit with walls and walls of text. He swallowed thickly before digging in.

 _Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that ’till you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me._

* * *

He read the whole typed apology during the flight. In all fairness, he needed nowhere near two hours to get through it, but due to his drunkenness and how often he found himself breaking down and needing a couple minute break before continuing stretched what should have been a half hour read into something that filled the entirety of the two hour flight.

_As you know, my dearest John, I am not one to roll over and allow myself to be taken advantage of so willingly, but if it takes such a show of vulnerability to prove to you that I am truly sorry, I will beg for forgiveness and lay my heart out for you._

John didn’t know if that was quite possible for Alexander to do, but for a moment he allowed himself to believe it, believe that Alexander Hamilton would do just about anything to prove his love and regret to him. He wanted to be forgiven and given a medium to do so without John hounding him for more, he had laid it all out. Alexander’s written words were always far more potent than what he spoke; he allowed himself time to filter and truly think about what he was saying. While long winded, this apology proved that.

Once they landed and off-boarded, John waited at baggage claim for his duffle and did his best to pull at least a bit of sobriety out of the drunken mess he had become back in Charleston. Two hours and cups of coffee on the plane had surely helped, but he definitely wasn’t completely alcohol free. It was best if he didn’t drive for a while to say the least. 

He was surprised to find that his cell phone was still in service, though it would surely be disconnected in a matter of days if not hours. He had a couple of texts from Laf and Hercules telling him to call them if he needed to get picked up from the airport. Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about that.

As he moved to tuck his phone back into his pocket, seeing his duffle now on the conveyor belt starting to circle, it buzzed. He had a text and it was from…

Martha?

 ** _From Martha Laurens:_** dad said i couldn’t call you or text you.  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i know he’ll find out i sent you these texts because it’s fucking dad we’re talking about and nothing is a secret or sacred or whatever.  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i know that you probably don’t care if any of that bullshit you said was true when you said good bye  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i have a feeling that a lot of it wasn’t and it was mostly bullshit  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** and i know dad so he’s probably the right one to blame  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** but holy shit marge  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** jemmy’s dead.  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** he fucking  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** died right in my arms, margie  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** chasing after you  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** and i don’t know if i’m mad at you or him or dad  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** but i’m so lost and i just  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i wanted you to know he’s dead  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** whether you care or not, jemmy’s gone  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i wish you were here  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** you were there when mom died and i need you again  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** fuck, marge  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** jemmy’s gone and i just  
**_From Martha Laurens:_** i can’t believe it

John heard the crack on the floor before he realized he had dropped his phone, the screen absolutely shattered. No one around him seemed to notice as he dropped to his knees and tried to pick up the pieces, the glass cutting into his fingers. He was numb to it and managed to make it all the way to the trash can with bloodied hands before someone, one of the airline staff, came to ask him what was wrong. 

He gave a mumbled reply to the poor girl that sounded like something along the lines of “brother… dead… my fault… go home…” The poor employee quickly pulled him to the small office near the baggage claim was and wrapped his hands up in some bandages. She managed to get John to tell her which bag was his and got it for him, sitting with him as he tried to pull himself back into reality. 

John had no idea how long he had been sitting there with a stranger’s hand gently holding onto his wrists before he swallowed and tried to make his voice work. “Can I borrow a phone?”

The employee quickly nodded and got him one of the airport phones, putting in a code so that way it would call an outside line. He mumbled a thank you as he dialed the first number he could remember. He managed to hold it up to his ear and waited as he listened to the ringback tone.

_“Hello? Who is this?”_

“A-Alex?” John managed, his voice small. “It’s John, I… Could you pick me up? LaGuardia, baggage claim, please.”  


* * *

Alexander had been released from the hospital with a brace for his sprained wrist, a couple of bandages on his hyperextended fingers, and meds for his potential concussion and the pain. He wasn’t in a whole lot, but the entire hospital stay left him feeling more than a little confused and rather lost.

He had managed to get Eliza to take pity on him and take him home. She made sure that he was all set up and knew that she still wasn’t very pleased with him before leaving, but her soft side was showing. She could never stay angry at him for long and that was evident by the plate of cookies she left on the counter when she left. 

He had resigned himself to curling up in front of the TV for the rest of the day watching a handful of cop shows until he got annoyed with the inaccuracies and skipped to another. He and John used to do it all the time and the memory was bittersweet. He tried not to think about John and how he had removed himself from Alexander’s file, it hurt too much to dwell on it. It was hard; Alexander’s mind didn’t like to be stopped, but right now he just wanted a rest.

He nearly jumped when his phone started ringing and frowned at the unknown number. He answered it anyway.

“Hello? Who is this?” he asked, voice exasperated and more than a little annoyed that he had to mute the TV for whatever this was about.

 _”A-Alex?”_ came the reply and Alexander had to stop himself from gasping in surprise. _“It’s John, I… Could you pick me up? LaGuardia, baggage claim, please.”_

His voice sounded small and broken. A wave of anger came across Alexander and he wanted to snap at him, how dare he call him when it was convenient, did he know what he was going through, did he think Alex would bend over backwards at his will? It was the pain in John’s voice that forced him to put that to the side. Something had to have been really, really wrong for John to call him of all people, not Hercules or Lafayette or any of the Schuylers for that matter. John had called _him_.

“I’m on my way.”

Within minutes he was heading down the stairs of the apartment building, having hastily pulled on a coat and a pair of slippers, shoes with actual shoelaces would have been hard and taken too much time to do up with his fingers in such a state. He wasn’t even supposed to be driving, as per doctor’s orders, but he felt well enough and he pushed through illness and injury like this all the time.

He got to the airport and pulled into the loading zone. There weren’t a whole lot of other people there, the big rush from the last couple of flights with folks needing rides home had died down and there was a lull in activity until the next flight came in. He ignored the fact that he was supposed to stay in the car or risk getting towed and moved to run into the building, spotting John almost immediately sitting next to a woman who was gently holding onto his wrists. _He must be panicking,_ he thought as raced over to him.

“John,” he said, immediately dropping to one knee in order to be at his height. “Hey, it’s me. I came to pick you up, are you ready to go?”

The employee waited for John to nod before getting up to go back to doing her job, pleased that the man she had been sitting with for quite some time now was with someone he trusted and would likely get home safe.

Alexander grabbed a hold of the duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder before holding a hand out to John, surprised to see his bandaged up. He didn’t ask and was grateful when John got to his feet. He didn’t say anything as he guided the other to his car, apologizing to the staff who more than a little annoyed with him for disobeying their rules.

John got into his car for the first time since the night he had ruined his life and Alexander threw his duffle bag in the back seat before coming around to the driver’s side and climbing in. 

“So uh,” he mumbled as he started the car. “I’ll take you to Laf and Herc’s place, right? That’s where we’re headed?” 

He was surprised when he saw John shake his head. “I want to go home.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and he tried to contain his excitement as he nodded and started the drive back home. He didn’t say anything as they drove, worried that he would mess something up. Neither of them spoke until Alexander threw the car and park and moved to climb out. 

“Wait,” John said, looking over to Alexander. He swallowed thickly, trying to think of what to say. He didn’t feel real, hours of panicking and drinking and emotions did that to a guy. “I… I forgive you, for what you did. I still need time and to uh, work through the consequences, but.” He swallowed again as tears welled up in his eyes. “I need you.”

Alexander’s eyes widened, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So you read my apology?”

John laughed at that, a real laugh as tears streamed down his face. He leaned back in the passenger seat and stared at the roof of the car, there was a sun roof there. “Yeah… I did. The whole thing,” he said and looked to the man he had fallen in love with all those months ago. “I had to say good bye, you know, to my siblings and I did and.” He had to stop and look away as he took a deep breath. He needed to regain his composure before he completely lost it.

“Let’s go inside,” Alexander suggested gently. “Let’s go inside, I’ll make some coffee and then we can talk, okay?”

“Jemmy’s dead, Alexander. He’s dead and it’s… It’s my fault.”

Alexander couldn’t do anything more than hold his sobbing ex-boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying you're crying.  
> Finally John and Alexander talk at least a little bit.  
> I also got to use the infamous "Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships" letter so I'm pleased.  
> I also want to say that John is just lucky that a reasonable and sweet airline employee is the one who took pity on him instead of interrogating him because they think he's a terrorist so there's that.
> 
> As always, i love comments. They're honestly what's keeping me updating at a very quick pace so please please boost my ego I adore it. 
> 
> let me know if I have any coding errors or spelling or grammar mistakes. once again, i dont edit and i dont have a beta. i just write and post.  
> feel free to hmu on my main tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my hamilton tumblr [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/)


	15. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and John talk some and then Alexander and Eliza talk a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl I cut this one off due to length alone lmao.
> 
> TWs for this chapter: discussion of death, Hamilton getting shit for being shitty, really I think that's it

Alexander nearly jumped when his phone started to ring. He shifted carefully as not to disturb the sleeping John in his lap. He quickly answered the phone, not bothering to check who was calling him. He kept a gentle hand in John’s hair, running his fingers through his hair.

“Hello?” 

_”It’s Herc, do you know where John is?”_

Alexander glanced at the sleeping boy in his lap. They had been there for hours, mostly with Alexander holding John as he sobbed and cried and tried to explain what had happened during his trip home. He hadn’t been able to understand much, the gist of it being that saying goodbye to them had been hard and that some way somehow Jemmy had tripped to his death. It had taken quite a while to calm him down enough for him to have fallen asleep in Alexander’s lap.

“Yeah, he’s with me. He called me to pick him up from the airport.”

Alexander could hear the sigh of relief on the other end. _”I’ll come get him, is he alright?”_

Alexander had to stop himself from immediately telling him no. He took a bit of a breath. “He’s fine, he’s sleeping,” he found himself saying. “Let’s just let him sleep, please.” He had to stop himself from going on and on and telling Hercules the whole story that he didn’t ask for.

There was a pause and Hercules let out an annoyed huff after a moment. _”Let me know when he wakes up. I’m going to trust you, alright? Don’t fuck up.”_

“I understand.”

_”I hope to God that you do, Hamilton. I hope to God that you do.”_

* * *

Waking up in Alexander’s lap was the last thing John was expecting. He didn’t move right away, fighting a monster headache. Most of yesterday was a blur of alcohol, grief, and lots and lots of tears. He tried to will the hangover away, but it didn’t seem to work and so he carefully moved to get to his feet.

He managed to stand up without jostling Alexander too much; he looked like he may still be asleep for the time being. John slowly got himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter in the oh so familiar kitchen as he sipped it slowly. It was weird to be back here, in this apartment, after everything that had happened. 

John could hear Alexander stirring in the other room before he saw him, but it wasn’t long before they were standing across from each other in the small kitchen. Both of them weren’t sure what to say and they stared at each other for a long moment before Alexander broke the ice.

“How do you feel?”

“Monster headache,” John mumbled and took a sip of water. Alexander sighed and fished a couple of granola bars from one of the cupboards. He held one out to John, who took it after a moment. 

“I don’t know how much you remember from last night,” Alexander said slowly, moving to sit on the counter top as he opened up the granola bar. “But your phone’s jacked, you came here by choice, and nothing happened, if you’re worried about that.”

He was covering his ass and John couldn’t help the annoyed huff. He set the glass of water down, it was mostly empty now, in favor of having two hands available to open up the granola bar. “I’d like to think that I remember most of yesterday,” he said as he took a bite of the bar. “Even though there is quite a lot I want to forget.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alexander pressed gently and John almost laughed. God no, he didn’t want to talk about it at all. Yesterday was easily the worst day of his life, but it would help. Probably. Hopefully.

Worst case scenario he gets some serious pity points.

“I’m just going to laundry list it so I can get everything straightened out,” he said after a moment’s thought. “I don’t want to try and get into depth with some of this shit just yet because hangovers suck ass.”

That made Alexander chuckle, but he nodded all the same and waited for John to start talking.

“Alright, I went home Friday night. Dad wasn’t around which was nice, had dinner with my siblings, went to find the pictures I have of my mom, could only find one because fuck my dad, got the call from the hospital about your stupid ass, dealt with that, went to bed,” he said, looking away from his ex boyfriend when he mentioned the call from the hospital, intentionally not mentioning the fact that he had deliberately had his name removed from Alexander’s file.

“Woke up, made breakfast with everyone, played games, Dad came home and beat my ass, I said fuck you to him for the first time ever which was fantastic, played with my siblings some more, said goodbye to them, got in the car to leave and-” He paused a moment and took a deep breath. Despite the fact that he was going over everything that happened in the broadest terms possible, mentioning the fact that his brother had died was hard.

“Jemmy chased after me, fell, and died,” he said, quickly pushing forward to the next thing on the list. “Got roaring drunk at the airport, got on my flight home, read your apology- the whole thing. I then went to baggage claim, got texts from my sister confirming the Jemmy thing,” again quickly pushing past it. “Broke the fuck down and fucked my phone up, had someone take pity on me for hours, called you, got picked up by you, and you know the rest.”

His quick brief recollection of the weekend was met by silence from Alexander, but he didn’t particularly care. He was trying his best to remain calm and collected because breaking down was the exact opposite of something he wanted to do in front Alexander- again. For once in his life, it seemed that Alexander didn’t know what to say.

John spoke up. “Can we talk about your apology? I don’t want to get into… Everything else that happened just yet.”

Alexander nodded at that. “Yes, absolutely, we totally can.”

“I know last night that I said I forgave you,” he said slowly and Alexander nodded to confirm that he had, in fact, said that. “Okay, cool. Well, that’s a really… Simplified and easy way to put it. I would rather phrase it as a ‘I can forgive you’ because I still very much need to work through and process what has happened as a result of what you did.”

Alexander sighed ever so slightly, but didn’t try to hide it from John. “I understand. I know that I am not an easy person to love or be in a relationship with. Hell, I’m a hard person to be around for most folks, and I know that I fucked up and continued to fuck up because of my pride,” he said. “I want to work things out between us; I love you and I really don’t want to lose you. These past, what, two weeks? They’ve been really hard for me, and you too I imagine.” 

He hoped. He hoped that it had been hard for John too. It hurt too much to imagine that he had no problem losing him when it had nearly devastated Alexander. John didn’t say anything in response just yet, only nodded.

“The only thing I ask from you is that I don’t have to say sorry anymore. I know that I act like a cornered animal when I’m pushed, always have. Apologizing is really fucking hard for me, and I hope that my letter was enough to convince you that I am in fact sorry and take responsibility for what I’ve done, just,” he sighed. “I want to work through all of this, especially with you. I just don’t want to keep apologizing.”

John frowned at that. If he wanted Alexander to apologize everyday for the next year, he felt that he should be allowed to demand it. _He_ was the wronged party and it didn’t seem fair that Alexander could just ignore his responsibility to reassure John that he knew he fucked because he would react poorly. That wasn’t John’s fault, but Alexander’s. It felt like the other was preemptively blaming him for something that he had no right to be blamed for.

“You do realize that that is a stupid and immature request, right?” John asked, his voice flat. He was annoyed and unhappy with that condition of keeping Alexander. But… He didn’t want to lose him either. He didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially Alexander at this point, how much he needed someone by his side. Sure, Hercules and Lafayette were going to be there to support him through it all, but Alexander was different and John couldn’t quite explain why.

It took a whole lot of self control, just about all of it, on Alexander’s part to avoid snapping at John in response. John was right and he 100% recognized that, but he knew himself and he knew that if John pressed him for more apologies, he would ruin whatever progress they made at any point in the process.

“Yeah I do,” he said after an extended silence. “But I also know that I can only make the progress we need to make with that condition in place. Once we’ve worked through a lot of what we need to, I can work through that part of me, but I can only do one at a time.”

John hated to admit that he was right, but he was. He needed to decide what was more important to him right now: apologies or Alexander. After a moment’s thought, he decided which one.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But know that there may be times that I’ll _need_ you to tell me you’re sorry and comfort me, so I need you to be prepared to do that because if you leave me hanging when I need it most, it’ll be real fucking difficult to keep doing this with you.”

Alexander nodded. This was going to be hard and he knew it. Both of them were going to deal with shit they didn’t want to and do things they really didn’t want to do, but they needed to to get through this as a couple, more importantly as friends.

“I can only promise to do my best.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask for.”

“Hey John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

John smiled and after a moment, he laughed. Alexander’s heart swelled.

Oh how he had missed that.

* * *

“Wait a second, what?”

“He wants to work through things,” Alexander said, walking with Eliza to class with a coffee in hand. John wasn’t with them; he was spending the day at Herc and Laf’s place, having all but dropped out at this point. Luckily he had a degree and good friends, worst comes to worst he would have a place to stay when the money stopped flowing.

“So you guys are dating again?” Eliza asked, raising an eyebrow. She and the rest of their friends hadn’t exactly forgiven Alexander for what he had done to John just yet which made her wary of the fact that John had seemed to have forgiven him.

“Not exactly,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “There’s… A lot happening right now and actively maintaining a romantic relationship between us isn’t a good idea. While I don’t believe he’s going to go out and date other people right now, he is technically free to do so. We’re not committed to each other.” They had talked about it, but there was a lot of hurt that Alexander needed to help heal before he could call John his again.

“Good,” she said with a sigh of relief and Alexander glanced at her with a look of confusion.

“What do you mean ‘good’?”

“I mean just that; good,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t think either of you are in good positions to be in a relationship right now and I fullheartedly believe that after the stunt you pulled with him, that he could do better and should do better.”

Alexander stopped walking and caused Eliza to do so as well. She sighed, looking to him with an even stare. She had been nothing but blunt with him the second that she got a handle of his personality. While he did well working out subtleties, it was much faster this way.

“You’re going to be a constant reminder of all that he’s lost,” she elaborated. “He’s lost so much. Money, stability, his siblings-”

“Jemmy died.”

Eliza stopped talking. “What.”

“Jemmy, his little brother? He fell down the stairs when he left and he watched him die.”

“Why has nobody told me anything?” she asked and started walking towards their classes with a groan. Alexander was quick to match pace.

“To be fair, I have had my hands full with class, midterms, being in the hospital and injured, and now working things through with John. I have plenty of excuses and could even think of more if you would like. Plus you and basically every other friend of ours has been upset with me.”

“Rightfully so.”

“I won’t confirm or deny that, but at very least it is not my fault that you don’t know anything. Pick someone else to blame.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there you have it. let me know if i need to tag anything else. i can't foresee this fic going on for much longer if i'm being honest so i may be wrapping it up in the next few chapters, just a heads up. thank you all for being supportive and wonderful <3
> 
> as always, please boost my ego and comment about how much you love it or how emotional the characters are making you (honestly the best part of my day was when I got two comments on chapter 13 that were both basically "oh my fucking god" and "oh my god. holy fucking shit" within hours of each other and also when someone said they hated me and called me a fuck that was honestly incredible I grinned about it all day). 
> 
> the comments are what keeps bringing me back to writing this and so just know that your comments are ery much appreciated. i love them so much.
> 
> let me know if you make a post about my fic on tumblr tbh because pls
> 
> anyway, hmu on tumblr at [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/)


	16. Denny's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meeting anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i get that it's not like a "family" meeting because they're not "family" but its basically a family meeting
> 
> TW: slight violence at the end, references to Alexander being a shit, talk of abusive dads (but not a lot)
> 
> anyway, where the fuck is this fic going? who the fuck knows.

**_From Lafayette:_** i don’t want to go.

 ** _From Hercules:_** oh come on, you have to.

 ** _From Lafayette:_** i do not HAVE to, mon cheri, that is where you are very very very wrong.  
 ** _From Lafayette:_** angelica is not going.

 ** _From Hercules:_** thats because she’s in london.  
 ** _From Hercules:_** adrienne is out of the country.  
 ** _From Hercules:_** therefore you do not have an excuse. you’re going.

 ** _From Lafayette:_** …  
 ** _From Lafayette:_** it is not my fault if he ends up in the hospital.

 ** _From Hercules:_** i will help you put him there if he deserves it.

* * *

Alexander had never been more nervous about something in his entire life. Meeting John’s dad for the first time paled in comparison to what was in store for him tonight. Had someone told him a year ago that he would be this _anxious_ for a dinner with his friends, he would have laughed. Fucking cackled.

He wasn’t ready for this.

But it needed to happen. He needed to sit down with all their friends and they needed to talk. His actions had seriously affected his relationship with every single one of their friends, which in hindsight proved that they were people he really did want to continue to be friends with; if they were people with strong enough moral compasses that meant they all but disowned someone they knew for their deplorable behavior, they were people he wanted to surround himself with.

They weren’t going anywhere fancy, just a Denny’s in lower Manhattan. It felt like a fitting place to have a very important and likely loud and emotional discussion with his friends; cheap food (coffee) and a general understanding that it was _Denny’s_ , their loud and heated conversation would go widely unnoticed or at very least ignored.

John had been staying with Hercules and Lafayette for the past month despite the fact that he was relying heavily on a trust fund from his parents to continue to pay for the apartment Alexander was living in. His conscience wouldn’t throw Alexander to the curb and so he told himself that he would pay the rent like usual until the lease was up or he ran out of money; whichever came first. A tiny part of him held out hope that he and Alex would get their shit together enough to move back in with each other, but it was a very tiny part of him, the part that missed Alexander more than he cared to admit.

The three of them arrived first at the diner and asked for a table for ten, just to be safe; they knew enough people that it was a very real possibility that all seats could be filled; not to mention with a party as big as theirs who had a history of being as loud as they did, asking for seating for ten meant they would hopefully be pushed into the back room of the diner lest it be reserved for an event.

It wasn’t and so the three of them were seated by a waitress who seemed confused but dead enough on the inside to avoid asking the obvious question and instead took their drink orders. Once she stepped out, Lafayette quickly turned to John.

“Is he on his way or has he roostered out?” he asked and Hercules rolled his eyes.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, you have been living here, in these United States of America, for how long? And you still, on a regular basis, mess up that one colloquialism?” the annoyed man asked, using Lafayette’s full name and title that he had specifically put to memory for the sole purpose of using it to emphasize his annoyance with the frenchman. John watched with a bit of a smile; Lafayette easily slipped right under Hercules’s skin but only did so purposefully with the intention of drawing a laugh out of someone or to poke fun.

“Oh, have I messed it up again?” Lafayette asked with a grin that screamed _I only mess it up to annoy you and it’s been working for years_. “Sorry sorry. John, I’ll rephrase. Is Alexander on his way or has he henned out?”

Hercules immediately dropped his head into his hands and let out a tired groan. The frenchman was insufferable, he couldn’t believe he had decided to live with the fool. 

“I just texted him,” John said, still smiling. Alexander’s name no longer put a bad taste in his mouth, but it didn’t necessarily fill him with the same joy as before. “He should be here any minute.”

“Eliza is nearly here too,” Herc added. “She and Peggy just got off Skype with Angelica, supposedly she’s got a coffee date coming up in the morning and she got up extra early for it.”

“I wish to be on that date with her,” Lafayette muttered and Herc resisted the urge to smack him.

“She said she’d try to skype in once it was over though. Depends on how it goes.”

“You mean to say if she spreads her legs for him.”

“Enough,” John interrupted, his friends were getting worked up and it wasn’t necessarily the fault of one Angelica Schuyler skipping out on dinner. This would the first time that Hercules had truly talked to Alexander since the whole ordeal and the first time Lafayette had even said a word to him. 

The waitress brought them their drinks; a Coke for Lafayette, Sprite for Hercules, and a Dr. Pepper for John. They quietly sipped at them while pretending to peruse the menu while they waited for the rest of their party. The silence was welcomed by all, knowing that their night was likely to get loud and heated once they actually started talking.

Eliza and Peggy arrived before Alexander which was no surprise to all involved. While Alexander was someone who didn’t shy away from a fight, he was someone who would delay the fight until he was sure he had the upper hand. He was also someone who had a tendency to forget what time management even was let alone practice it, so either one was likely.

Not long after the sisters arrived did the one and only Alexander Hamilton show up. All eyes were on him and he swallowed thickly. There was an open seat next to John that he hoped he could take and have it not seem weird, but he didn’t think that that would happen. It would most certainly look weird and at very least, Lafayette would give him a dirty look. He was saved from the consequences of making the decision himself when John stood up and beckoned him over.

Everyone was dead silent as Alexander walked over to him, keeping his head up high and not allowing his entire being to betray just how nervous he was. He seemed to be doing an alright job. Hopefully.

John surprised him with a hug, pulling Alexander in to him briefly with a pat on his back. It was nothing like the intimacy of before, but it was something and the fact that it had happened with all of their friends’ eyes on them was something. John had always said he hated playing the politician, and so did Alexander for that matter, but being the son of Henry Laurens meant he had picked up some pretty useful tricks. By showing Alexander this tiny token of affection and therefore acceptance, he was (hopefully) showing everyone else gathered that their relationship was growing in the right direction, that forgiveness was on the horizon.

The tense silence was eventually broken by Hercules.

“This is really fucking weird and tense and the fact that we have just been staring at each other for five minutes, not saying anything, is not helping at all.”

The girls and John chuckled quickly while Lafayette huffed and Alexander sat up a little straighter. He didn’t want to be the one to break the ice and start the conversation. It was going to turn into something loud in no time at all and he didn’t want to be the one to break the ice. For once, Alexander didn’t say a word despite the fact that his mind was going a mile a minute.

“Why are we even here at all?” Lafayette muttered and leaned heavily on his hand, propped up by his elbow on the table. His hair was pulled back and out of his face which was surprisingly intimidating, Alexander realized.

“To talk,” Eliza said with a hopeful smile. “Alexander has fucked some shit up and we need to all hear him apologize.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow. _Oh fuck this,_ he thought. They did not drag him to a _Denny’s_ for him to grovel and kiss ass for them all to love him again. That was some ripe horseshit if they thought that that was going to happen. 

“He doesn’t need to apologize to us,” Hercules corrected her before Alexander had a chance to pipe up, which undoubtedly saved his ass in the long run. “He wronged John and he’s apologized to John. We need to talk solutions and… What comes next.”

Everyone looked expectantly to John and Alexander because Hercules was correct after all, the apologies were between them. While his actions had certainly affected everyone involved, it was John who he had hurt and caused irreparable damage to.

“Alex and I are… Working things out on a personal level,” John said hesitantly, trying to figure out how to explain it without telling them absolutely everything. “We haven’t gotten back together and if we do, it’s not happening for a long time.” Alexander nodded in agreement, wanting to make sure that everyone there knew he wasn’t trying to take advantage of John’s compromised emotional state (the look in Lafayette’s eyes just seemed to be screaming that accusation). “While I certainly haven’t forgiven Alexander for everything he’s put me through… I’m not ending my involvement with him.”

Peggy couldn’t help but laugh. “If that’s not the most stick-up-the-ass thing I’ve heard you say, John,” she said, trying not to completely lose it. Her laughter was contagious though and soon everyone was cracking at least smiles, even the very grumpy frenchman in the corner.

“Here,” John said, holding his hands up in mock surrender for a moment. “Let me colloquialize that for you: Alexander and I are still friends kind of and we’re not fucking anymore, at least not yet.”

Peggy gave a thumbs up. “Thanks, John. Really appreciate you going the extra mile to make sure I’m all caught up and aware of this kind of stuff. You’re a true friend.”

The waitress came then to take the rest of the party’s drink orders and was quick to disappear back into the kitchen once she was done. Her presence seemed to remind everyone that they were actually in a dining establishment and therefore needed to pick something to order. It was, however, a Denny’s and it didn’t take long for everyone to decide.

When the waitress came back with everyone else’s drinks, they ordered the actual food they wanted which was going to lock them into their discussion for at least another half an hour.

“I want it on the record,” Lafayette said as soon as the waitress left them to their own devices. “That I do not forgive you, Alexander. You have caused a great deal of pain and I am not happy to be sitting across the table from you today.”

It came as no surprise to Alexander, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “I get it. You’ve got every right to be upset, but I haven’t wronged you so do not expect an apology from me.”

Hercules and John made eye contact, a look of fear flashed between them. They had gone into this dinner knowing full well that Alexander wouldn’t be dishing out apologies and begging for forgiveness, they’d talked about it with Eliza even. It hadn’t even occurred to them to warn Lafayette.

Before the frenchman had a chance to rip Alexander a new one, Eliza spoke up. “I’m not trying to defend Alexander, but Lafayette, you are about to turn this dinner that is intended to be a solution finding event into an argument. Please, let’s focus on the issue at hand and once we’re done, kick his ass.”

Alexander frowned but didn’t dispute it. Everyone except for Lafayette and maybe Peggy were pushing the agenda of figuring out what to do next instead of working out their relationships with him. It seemed to be hard for Lafayette to put his feelings for him to the side in order to have such a discussion, and Alexander didn’t blame him, just questioned why he was included in this dinner if that was the case. The waitress came and took their orders as quickly as possible, the tension in the air palpable to even an outside party.

“John,” Lafayette said after a long moment. “What is the next step, hm?”

While he didn’t necessarily want all the attention at the table directed towards him, John figured it was better than being directed at Alexander because given enough attention and enough time, Alexander would easily start a fight.

“I… I need to find a job and a place to live, really,” he said with a bit of a huff. “It’s not necessarily your guys’ job to help me do that, but I don’t think I can do it on my own. I feel bad crashing on Laf and Herc’s couch every night, but I don’t really have any other options.”

“How much do you have left in your trust fund from your mom?” Peggy asked before Lafayette and Hercules had a chance to butt in about how he was always welcome in their apartment. “I know your dad was on the hook for all your expenses before this mess, but you’ve got something, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, there’s quite a bit left. I’m currently using it to pay for the old apartment.”

“Your old apartment?” Eliza asked slowly.

“The one you used to share with Alex?” Peggy raised an eyebrow.

“The one that Alexander is currently residing in?” Hercules frowned.

“That one?” Lafayette scoffed.

“Yes, that one,” Alexander said and crossed his arms. Everyone looked to him with a look of what most would call disgust.

“I was paying for it before,” John said quickly. “I mean, my dad was. Alexander doesn’t have a job or any like, I don’t know, income or savings of any kind at all to pay for the place. I signed the lease, I’m the one on the hook. I’m going to pay for it until the lease runs out and then…” He looked to Alexander, a shred of pity in his eyes. “He’s on his own.”

Alexander’s heart twisted. He felt bad taking advantage of John like that. If anything, he should have been the one to move out and he was certain everyone agreed with that, but John hadn’t made that an option. He had made the decision the night he stood sobbing on Pier 94. Going back to the apartment and living with Alexander was not in the cards anytime soon.

“Pathetic,” Lafayette grumbled under his breath and there seemed to be a silent nod of agreement that spread across the table.

Including John.

* * *

“Alexander,” Lafayette called after him as they all went their separate ways once dinner was over. They had figured out some logistics; Lafayette and Hercules would house John on their couch while he searched for a job and the Schuylers would see what strings they could pull in order to find John a cheap apartment.

Everyone seemed to have gotten the hell out of dodge already and Alexander turned to face the frenchman. He was a daunting size and Alexander would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by him in the slightest. Being on Lafayette’s bad side wasn’t a very fun place to be.

“Yeah?” he said, coming to a stop as Lafayette approached him.

He should have been ready for the punch that caught his cheek and nearly sent him sprawling across the pavement, but he wasn’t. Perhaps the dinner had given him a false sense of security, that everyone there was willing to forgive him. He had to stop himself from immediately throwing a punch in response; being the bigger person did not come naturally to him.

“I have been wanting to do that since I saw your face across the table,” Lafayette said slowly, enunciating every syllable clearly. His accent was thick, as it usually was when emotions ran high. Alexander nursed his now aching jaw. “You are pathetic, Alexander Hamilton. John may have forgiven you, but I do not fear festering hatred. You have wronged him in the lowest of ways and it will take a lot of work for me to see you as more than the scum you are.”

“My goal isn’t to please you,” he said, trying to decide if he tasted blood or if it was just Denny’s after taste. “At this point, I just want to make it up to John. I love him still and I wish to love him again and to be loved by him. You and your emotions are not important.”

That was definitely the wrong way to phrase it, but he wasn’t about to correct himself. Instead of punching him again, which Alexander was expecting, he straightened up a bit, his expression seeming to soften.

“Then go, put your heart into making it up to John. He deserves been than you.”

“So I’ve been told.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading please boost my ego and leave a comment or kudos! i appreciate them more than anything!
> 
> hmu on my tumblr [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) or my hamilton one [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/)
> 
> what has happened to my characterization of alexander? who knows  
> will john and alexander ever make up? maybe  
> how long can the author keep going? we'll fucking see
> 
> reminder that i don't proofread because im the worst. hmu with any spelling or grammar mistakes i've made thanks.


	17. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John runs into Thomas Jefferson and he's not as bad as one would think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: talking about dead brothers and shitty dads

John was leaving Alexander’s apartment in a bit of a frustrated huff when he ran into him.

“John, what a pleasant surprise,” the one and only Thomas Jefferson said with a smile on his face. “I didn’t know you and Ham were back together.”

“We’re not,” John snapped and stopped to look at the taller man. He and Alexander had just gotten into yet another argument about apologies and he was not in a good mood. It wouldn’t take much for Jefferson to pick a fight out of him.

But it didn’t seem to be a fight that Jefferson was after. His face even seemed to soften with genuine compassion which was a surprise to John, but he wasn’t going to comment on it. He just wanted to get out of the apartment complex and walk off his anger before heading back to Herc and Laf’s apartment to change before his job interview.

“You seem upset,” Jefferson said, walking over to John.

“Because I am,” John huffed as he smacked Jefferson’s hand away from trying to run its way down to the small of his back. Thomas wasn’t fazed and simply held up his hands in a show of gentle surrender and took a step back as John moved to shove past him to the stairs.

“Let me take you out to coffee,” he said, much to John’s surprise. It caused him to stop and turn towards the other. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he deadpanned and Thomas shrugged. 

“And based on what little I know of your and Hamilton’s break up, I think it is fair to say that you are emotionally unavailable.”

John stared at him for a long moment before sighing. “Then let’s go. I need caffeine in my system before my job interview,” he said, turning and starting to head down the stairs. He didn’t bother to look behind him to see if Thomas was following him. He found out the second they made it outside when Thomas wrapped his around John’s shoulders. 

“You’ve got a job interview?” he asked, surprising John with just how much he seemed to care. 

“Yeah at this small nonprofit. The position is a legal analyst type deal. I don’t know if I’m quite what they’re looking for but… Here’s hoping.” He didn’t try to push Thomas off, trying not to show that he was indeed enjoying the physical contact from the other. It was small affections like these that he missed the most after the break up. His anger was slowly fading, being out of the building helped, and dare he say it, so did Jefferson.

“Well, good luck. Ah, here we are,” Thomas said as they approached a small coffee shop. John recognized it as a place that he and Alexander had spent many a hurried morning grabbing coffee on their way to class and many a lazy afternoon having quiet coffee dates. It was strange to be there with Jefferson to say the least.

He let Thomas lead him inside. Once at the counter, John didn’t think before he ordered.

“One double shot americano and one plain black,” he said, realizing a moment too late that he just automatically ordered his and Hamilton usual drinks. The barista looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond to the fact that he had just told him the cost.

Jefferson leaned in, a hand on John’s shoulder. “Add in a flat white,” he said and quickly produced a credit card, reaching forward to pass it to the barista. His hand shifted from John’s shoulder to his hip, his arm now snaking around the smaller man. It was an intimate position to be in and John pulled away after a moment, looking for a table to sit at and wait for their drinks.

He found a booth and sat picking at his hangnails until Thomas walked over with the three coffee drinks they had ordered. He set down the two paper cups that John had ordered and kept his latte to himself, taking slow sips.

“I didn’t know which was yours and which was Ham’s so I figured I wouldn’t correct the order,” he said after a moment, raising an eyebrow at John who hadn’t reached for either drink. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” John mumbled and reached for cup that didn’t have anything scrawled on it. “Force of habit, I guess.”

“You drink your coffee black? Nothing in it at all?” Thomas asked with wide eyes, having noticed exactly which drink John had picked up. “Alexander, well I expect that insanity from him, but you? John, I am almost offended by your tastes.”

John laughed at that, taking a sip of the swill that had Jefferson’s panties in a bunch. “It’s about the caffeine, Thomas. It doesn’t matter how it tastes or how expensive it is, it’s all about the caffeine.”

Thomas scoffed and sipped at his own drink a moment to gather his thoughts. “There is no reason to suffer.”

“If I’m drinking coffee, I’m already suffering.”

Thomas relented and the two of them settled into silence for a short while, sipping their warm and delightfully caffeinated beverages. It wasn’t until John was about halfway done with his before Thomas spoke.

“I don’t know many specifics, but through the grapevine I have heard quite a few things about your current situation. Even Lafayette has been quite conservative with the information he’s passed on, which is a surprise seeing how upset he is with Alexander.”

John shrugged, but was grateful to hear that Laf had been reigning in his rather loose lips for the time being. “Well, what do you know so I can fill in the blanks.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you’re comfortable with me knowing, hm?”

John frowned. Thomas’s answer was not one he had anticipated in anyway shape or form. The idea that he didn’t actually owe anyone an explanation was an entirely new concept and the man across from him was offering him that chance. He swallowed and nodded, thinking about how to proceed.

“Well, Alexander outed me to my dad,” he stated. It was after all the very beginning of all of his troubles lately and therefore a very good place to start. “The bastard disowned me and basically took away my siblings. I’ve got next to no money to my name save for a trust fund that’s paying for Alex’s apartment and Laf and Herc’s kind souls.” He sighed and put down his coffee. “It doesn’t help that my brother died a couple weeks ago and I can’t even go to the funeral or memorial service or whatever my dad is planning, I just know he hasn’t done it yet. Probably wants it to be a huge publicity opportunity for his upcoming campaign for governor.”

Thomas let him talk and waited until he was done to reach across the table and rest his hand atop of John’s. He offered him a small smile, trying to be comforting. “I didn’t know all of that, I’m sorry to hear about your brother. Were you two close?”

John shrugged. “Sort of. He was young, a lot younger than me. All my siblings are I suppose. It’s hard to be super close with your family when you’re never home and avoid it altogether. Just… I just can’t stand my dad.”

“I understand,” he said and gave John’s hand a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to keep going if he needed to.

“Ever since my mom died, it’s like I’ve been the one raising them. My dad was never home and when he was, he made it a point to ignore us or would just beat me instead. He liked to prove he was stronger, more powerful than us,” John admitted. It was weird telling Jefferson such intimate details about himself and his childhood, being by Alexander’s side having tainted his image of the man before him. If Laf was his friend however, there had to be a vein of compassion in his body and it seemed like he had found it. “The guy has a serious narcissism issue; who the fuck needs to prove to their _kids_ that they’re stronger than them?”

“Someone’s who’s terrified of being emasculated perhaps.”

“Sounds like my dad,” John muttered.

The conversation lightened up quite a bit after that. It seemed that Thomas was genuinely trying to make him feel better and it was a side of him that John had never even expected. Thomas was borderline charming. By the time John even checked the time he was cutting it a bit close when it came to getting to his job interview on time.

“Shit, I’ve got to get going,” he said, a bit of panic seeping into his voice. “I had a good time today if I’m being honest so thanks.”

He quickly got to his feet, feeling a bit light headed for a moment before grabbing his mostly empty coffee cup. He moved to take a step as the edges of his vision blurred and slowly went entirely dark. He tried to put one foot in front of the other, but instead simply crumpled to the ground, the paper cup falling to the ground.

* * *

James Madison could not believe what he had been dragged into this time. Dating Thomas Jefferson was full of many surprises and ups and downs. Keeping him grounded was the most important thing he did, James thought, and Thomas made sure he stayed current on his medications.

But dragging him into this mess? God damn it, he was about ready to faint himself.

John Laurens had apparently fainted on Thomas when they were grabbing coffee and Thomas, in all of his wisdom, had _carried_ the passed out boy back to Hamilton’s place. 

There were two easily identifiable problems with that solution:

1\. John and Alex had literally _just_ gotten into a fight.  
2\. Thomas and Alex’s entire relationship with each other. Just the entire thing.

James sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. John was lying on the couch. He still hadn’t quite come back to the world of the living, but he had at very least opened his eyes a handful of times and assured them all that he was in fact not dead and probably not concussed. 

Thomas and Alex however had not been focusing their attention on him and instead on each other.

“You brought him here? Of all places, Thomas!” Alex was shouting and Thomas threw his hands in the air. 

“Where else should I have brought him? To Madison’s place? He was napping when I left and he lives a whole _two flights above you_. Like hell I was going to _carry_ John all the way up there!” Thomas snapped back, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a petulant child.

James sighed and made his way to the kitchen, searching for a cup and a granola bar. He poured John a glass of water and successfully secured a Cliff bar from a drawer while the other two argued. It was evident to James at the very least that Alex was panicking and yelling at Thomas kept the panic attack away.

He went to sit beside John, coughing into the crook of his elbow before shaking the other awake successfully and pushing the food and drink into his hands. “Come on, you fainted. Get this into you before you pass out again,” he said and helped John sit up. The other didn’t seem to notice Alex and Thomas fighting right away, but it became evident very quickly.

“Have you been eating?” James asked, ignoring the others’ squabble across the room. John looked to him as he took a sip of water and gave a half hearted shrug.

“Here and there,” he said noncommittally. “I’ve been busy. Sometimes I forget to eat. Just sort of comes with the territory.”

James shook his head, ignoring the fact that Alex had just yelled something that sounded incredibly offensive but one couldn’t be sure. “John, you need to be keeping your body well. Take it from me, it doesn’t feel good to suffer.”

John didn’t say anything, but ate the entirety of the protein bar and finished off the glass of water under James’ watchful eye. The two of them kept their eyes on Thomas and Alex before Thomas eventually relented and stormed out.

“That’s my cue,” James said with a chuckle and followed him out, leaving John alone with Alex.

“John-”

“No. I’m leaving. I need to call the place I was going to interview at and reschedule because guess what? I’m late as fuck by now. I don’t need any extra bullshit today,” John snapped as he got to his feet. Whatever calm sense of serenity Thomas had offered him, even for a moment, was gone and he was back to square one; pissed at Hamilton and ready to snap. He huffed and headed for the door.

“Get home safe,” he heard Alexander mumbled behind him. “And good luck, with the job interview.”

“Like you care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl I know next to nothing about people fainting and what you're supposed to do when that happens and it looks like thomas is in that boat with me.
> 
> leave me a comment and boost my ego pretty please i beg of you.
> 
> also i appreciate every single one of the comments and kudos i get, i can't tell you how much it means to me. its those that keep me going and im super stoked that people like this story even though its p obvious that the plot is just unraveling and im trying to desperately stitch it together so its comprehensible
> 
> hmu on my tumblrs [princesskane](http://princesskane.tumblr.com/) and [johnfightmelaurens](http://johnfightmelaurens.tumblr.com/)


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